Chasing Pavements
by ImagineAsian101
Summary: "You broke me, you know. I don't give a damn if it was middle school and I was stupid for actually liking you, but I just want you to know that you ripped my heart out," Clary spat. "And now you're back, here in New York to ruin my life. Why can't you find some other girl to destroy?" Jace's blazing eyes blinked. "Because there's only you." - All Mundane. AU. ClaryxJace.
1. Prologue

**Alright. I'm going to do something I never do: Write a multi-chapter, non-oneshot story. DUN-DUN-DUUUUN. :D**

**But, seriously. I don't do these stories, no matter how much I want to, due to writer's block, discouragement, and simple lack of determination. So, trust me when I say that I'm going out of my comfort zone with this Mortal Instruments story!**

**Summary: **Clary Fray can remember that one night in eighth grade where middle school heart-throb Jace Lightwood publicly humiliated her and broke her heart. Naturally, moving to New York was her lifesaver. But, of course, the past always catches up with the future. It's senior year. Clary's happy. And then Jace moves to the big apple and screws everything over. Both of them have changed and grew up, but their feelings just might still be there. Will it actually go somewhere this time, or will they just keep chasing pavements?**  
**

Inspired by the amazing Adele song on _Adele 19_. Buy the album for non-Bieber-like quality and actual, soulful music! xxx

**Disclaimer: **Clearly, I don't own the _Mortal Instruments_ series because, otherwise, Jace and Clary would be married with little Clace babies by now, Valentine and Sebastian would be roasted alive and fried as a special combo meal at KFC, Isabelle and Simon would be together forever, same with Alec and Magnus... I digress. **  
**

* * *

**Chasing Pavements**

* * *

_-Prologue-_**  
**

"You're kind of an idiot, Simon," Clary Fray managed to say with a straight face before bursting into laughter.

Her best friend, ever since she moved to New York four years ago, was stuck in the "splits position," both legs sticking straight out on the sides of his body. It was painful and uncomfortable to _look_ at. She could only imagine how he _felt._

"Took you a while to realize that," groaned Simon. Served him right. What kind of sane person would skate board off a ramp made of frozen waffles? "Now, if you would be so kind, Miss Clarissa, would you please help me out of this unnatural position? I hear my legs begging for mercy."

Rolling her eyes, Clary attempted to pry Simon off the sidewalk and into a standing position. Big mistake. Both of them heard the rip that was loud enough to reach the heavens, and she sprang back. Oh, God. It didn't take rocket science to figure out that Simon's skinny jeans had ripped.

"But you're wearing underwear, right? Wouldn't want to give the Brooklyn tourists a show."

"Not funny."

"Just checking! Ha, I bet you regret being a hipster now. Any normal senior would be in basketball shorts and this whole incident would be less embarrassing."

"_Clary. _If you're done ridiculing your dear best friend who, let me remind you, rescued you from being a social outcast during freshman year, could you help me with my situation?"

Clary froze at the mention of her first year in New York after moving from Los Angeles. It'd been the biggest relief of her life. It was a clean slate. New leaf. A beginning. It didn't matter what you called it. The big picture was that Clary was a few steps closer to forgetting the "incident" that would probably scar her love life forever. She remembered the humiliation of the party at Lightwood manor. Who knew 8th graders could be so cruel?

"Earth to Clary. Come on. I'm desperate. I can feel insects crawling into the rip, since, you know, I'm doing the splits on a dirty sidewalk while covered in waffle bits."

Swiftly and silently, the redhead took off her sweatshirt and used it as a bit of a curtain while she pulled Simon up. Just as quickly, she tied it around his waist, effectively covering the hole in his jeans. Clary retrieved his askew skateboard from a bush, thrusting it in his hands, and picked up the soppy waffles, placing them in the trash. Finally, she returned to Simon's side who was gaping at her.

"No insults? Nothing? You must really love me," he teased.

Jace had said that once to her. I love you. Stupid middle school hormones convinced stupid Clary that this stupid boy actually liked her. The last year of junior high was just so _stupid!_

"Snap out of it, Clary," she thought to herself. "That was before. He was just a boy... An amazingly gorgeous, hilarious, make-you-feel-like-you're-the-only-girl-in-the-world boy." Clary sighed and shook her head.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked, his voice sincere and worrisome.

"The past sucks," she blurted out.

"Ain't that the truth." He held out his arm to her and she took it, walking with him along the pavement of the park. "But we'll be seniors tomorrow. It'll be the last time we have to experience first day of school jitters. Our last year _in _high school. No surprises."

_And, with those last two words, Simon Lewis said what could be the biggest lie that Clary had ever heard._

* * *

**Alright, what do you think? Interesting? Have I failed already? Spare me the shame of putting up more chapters if it's horrible. xD  
**


	2. Because of a Black Pen

**First**** off, thanks for the reviews, you guys! xx And, to aswer one question, no, there wasn't a story before this. Any questions- like what happened at this supposed party- will be answered eventually. ;D**

**I give you chapter 1. I really hope you guys like it. :)**

* * *

**Because of a Black Pen**

* * *

I was up and getting ready before my alarm clock could screech and beep me awake.

The annual First Day of School had changed drastically over the years. It went from my mom taking lots of pictures, while I waved and slung my backpack over my shoulder like a JCPenny model, to general excitement, eventually reaching complete dread. But, today, and only today, would I be happy and prepared and _confident. _I was going to make new friends. I was going to aim for straight A's this year. I was going to join a few clubs, maybe even a sport if I was in a really good mood. The point was, _I was going to make my senior year count._ A part of my mind wanted to add, "I was going to get a boyfriend," to that little list of goals, but I shrugged it off. Relationships, love, and boys in general never worked out for me. My 8th grade year was a great example. I mentally slapped myself. "Do _not_ think about that."

My mirror wouldn't cease to pick out any flaws and lower my self-esteem a bit every time I checked my reflection. Fiery red curls that cascaded down my shoulders, piercing emeralds for eyes, a sprinkle of freckles across my nose, pale skin. I pinched my cheeks to try to add some color to my face, but I ended up hurting myself instead. Sighing, I padded downstairs, kissed my mom farewell until 2:40, and skipped out the door.

This was my year. I mean, I sure as hell hoped it would be.

* * *

Alicante Preparatory School sounded far better than reality. Sure, it was a private school, but it was more like a public school with a fancy name and higher quality restrooms.

It felt so familiar, walking down the tiled hallways and running a hand along the striped wallpaper. I passed the large gymnasium, cafeteria, and finally made it to the commons, which was similar to a lobby of a hotel. The main office was located in the commons and it was an area to talk and hang out. It was also where I found Simon, who'd recently been sprayed by the faulty water fountain.

"Schedule time!" I grinned, nudging Simon's piece of paper in his hand.

"English, math, blahblahblah, _lunch_! Now, _that_ is a good period!" he enthusiastically pumped his fist in the air. "I heard they got rid of the creepy lunch lady with the green hair and lazy eye."

"Aww, I always thought that ol' Milly had a special place in her heart for you. She gave you extra tater-tots."

"Oh, the shame," Simon mock-sobbed. "Well, I guess I got to go to Mr. Fell's for science. I'll see you later, Fray!"

Now I was alone, a few minutes before the bell would ring. I scrambled around to find my Literature class and snatched a seat at the right moment.

* * *

"I am Mr. Larson, and only call me Mr. Larson. No 'Mr. L's' or 'L-Dawg.' I trust you are all literate enough to pronounce two-syllables, hm?"

I was losing consciousness already.

"And, now class, we have a new student."

My ears perked up at this, but my head stayed rested against my mahogany desk.

"Please introduce yourself, Mr. _Lightwood._"

And, just like that, seven years worth of memories flooded back to me like a giant tidal wave. Mr. Lightwood. No. Mr. Larson couldn't be talking about-

"I'm Jace, and only call me Jace. J-Dawg and Mr. J are acceptable, though, since I doubt most of you are literate enough to pronounce one syllable, hm?"

He did such a perfect imitation of Mr. Larson, who I could vividly imagine turning red, that it was almost scary. The people laughing were those who didn't understand that Jace had just insulted them. Which would be everyone but me.

"You can take the empty seat in the back, Mr. Lightwood," Mr. Larson told him with disgust.

I felt the presence of someone walking down the aisle beside me and the clamor of books slamming on the desk to my left. Of course. He just had to sit by me. Now, my head was pressed onto my desk by _choice_. If I just ignored him and looked down, maybe Jace would-

"Hey. Sleeping Beauty. You awake? I need a pen."

Are you serious? "God, I'm sorry I haven't gone to church lately. I'll go on Easter if that makes up for it," I silently prayed. "Now, get him off my back!"

I heard Jace sigh. "No one's conscious here. Can't _someone_ tend to my lack-of-a-writing-utensil need?"

Enough of this shit. I pulled out a pen, stuck in the binding of my spiral notebook, and slammed it down on his desk, loud enough for the science class in the room next door to hear.

"Jeez. If this pen means so much to you, you can keep it, Sleeping Beauty," Jace snorted.

"My name. Is not. Sleeping Beauty," I replied, slowly and deliberately.

"And she actually talks! Tell me your name, fair maiden. The suspense is killing me."

I took my head off my desk with a brief yawn, rubbed my eyes, and stared at him with the intensity of a million laser beams, my eyes screaming, "Remember me?"

The girl you dated in 8th grade for nine months. I helped you with homework. You helped me with sports. I'd rest my head on your lap. You'd kiss my forehead and attempt to braid my hair- which turned out to be a disaster. Ring a bell?

Jace was blankly holding my gaze, eyebrows knit together. While the gears in his pretty little brain were turning, hopefully putting the pieces together about my identity, I looked at him. Really _looked_ at him.

He was a taller version of his middle school self and way more muscular. A halo of tousled blonde hair went down a little past his ears, framing his tan and chiseled face. Jace's smirky mouth was still there, hiding his pearly-white teeth, and his golden eyes had stayed in tact, too. I'd always suspected contacts. No natural eyes could be so bright, bold, and _yellow_.

I mentally slapped myself. Those eyes were deceiving.

"You look really familiar," he drawled, giving me a once-over and taking in my strawberry hair and green eyes.

I didn't blame him for not remembering the girl that made him notorious and infamous as a player and heartbreaker. I had changed a lot. For one, I wasn't so flat-chested anymore. Two, the braces came off after a couple agonizing long years. Three, my acne had been wiped out by a deadly combination of ProActive and Neutrogena. I was a whole new Clary when I moved to New York and it was quite freaking fantastic.

The bell rang. Back to reality. I grabbed my bag from the side of my desk and shot out of the room before Jace could say anything.

* * *

I weaved through the maze called high school hallways, shoving past making out couples, leaping over the feet that wanted to trip me, and sprinting straight into the commons. But not without a few casualties.

I slammed right into some other girl in the same hurry as me, sending us sprawling on the floor. My head throbbed from banging it on her science text books and I heard her groan from having her shoulder rammed by the corner of my purse.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled.

"No problem. That's one sturdy bag, though."

I managed to stand up and offered a hand to her, which she gratefully took. She was gorgeous, like she just walked off the runway of a Victoria's Secret fashion show. Sleek, pure black hair, high cheek bones, long lashes. And I knew that face all too well.

"Hey, by the way. I'm Isabelle. Isabelle Lightwood," she calmly grinned, releasing my hand.

"I know," I replied without thinking.

She tilted her head at me and placed a finger on her chin, trying to remember. _You were there when I ran out crying, telling me that your brother was an asshole. Saying it was okay. That Jace was just a big jerk. Amen to that_.

Suddenly, Isabelle's eyes flickered and her face lit up. "Of course... Clary! Clary Fray, the one that moved to New York during freshman year! God, I'm stupid. You were the only redhead that I knew." She pulled me into a tight hug. "How are you? The last time I saw you was-" Her voice broke off and she drew back.

"The party," I finished for her a bit glumly.

"Yeah. I'm... Wow. That brings back a lot. You know _he's_ here, too. We moved here a few weeks ago because mom got a job and- Yeah. The, uh, Lightwoods have arrived. Ta-duh!" Izzy did a bit of a tap dance with jazz hands, a tiny smile on her perfect face.

Yep. The Lightwoods were back. And the rest of my past came with them.

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**What'd you guys think? And any guesses at what happened at this mysterious party? :D **


	3. A Happy Reunion Sort of

**Ahh! Thank you so much for the reviews! I feel loved, haha. :P  
**

**Anyways, here's chapter 2. From here on out, most of the chapters will have two points of view, Clary's and Jace's. I write whose POV it is in centered italics, shown two lines below. :D Enjoy and review if you can! xx  
**

* * *

**A Happy Reunion. Sort of.**

* * *

_-Clary-_

Lunch. Also known as food-colored, processed crap served to teens. For the first day, it was burnt chicken, mashed potatoes that weren't so mashed, and a healthy scoop of brown broccoli.

I was going to be bringing my lunch from now on.

After literature, the rest of the morning was a blur of semi-nice teachers and guidelines and syllabuses. Through a good majority of it, my mind was elsewhere, floating to thoughts of Jace. Jace Lightwood.

* * *

_We're six years old and it's the first day of 1st grade. Recess, to be specific._

_I'm swinging on the monkey bars, halfway to the other side. My hands are white from gripping the bars too tightly. I'm slipping and I must be six feet above the ground since I'm shorter than all the other 1st graders. Therefore, me falling would be more painful than if an average-sized student fell. I'm beginning to get sweaty palms and I'm too far from the start to swing back. It's either make it across, or fall to my doom. Literally._

_"Hey! Clarissa, right? What are you doing? Mrs. Brady says we all have to go inside now!" calls a tiny Jace. Even then, he's lean and tall in a Snoopy t-shirt and cargo pants. His curls are much more bouncier and his hair is a lighter shade of blonde, making him look like your typical angel you'd find embroidered in blankets and pillows._

_"I-I'm stuck," I stutter, beginning to cry._

_"You're almost there, though! Just swing across! Reach out, little by little. You can do it, Clarissa."_

_I do what's told and reach out for the next bar, latching my hands onto that one. Hesitantly, I begin to loosen my grip on the bar and attempt to reach out again. I wait too long and my hands slip._

_I'm falling._

_And then I'm not. I'm on the sand and there's rocks digging into my skin. Although, I have all my limbs in tact and nothing is bleeding but my knee. That's because I'm on top of Jace. I fell on him._

_"Ah! I'm sorry! Please don't tell on me!" I squeal, getting panicky._

_"Wait. Are you okay at least?"_

_"Yeah. It's just my leg. What about you?"_

_"I'm fine. Mommy says I'm indestructible! Nothing can break me," Jace proudly grins._

_"Well, a lot can break me. See? I have a scrape on my leg and it hurts!" I'm wailing. Jace grasps my hand in his and takes me to Mrs. Brady who goes to get the alcohol wipe. "It's going to sting," I whimper._

_"Don't worry, Clarissa. I'll be quick. We've got to make sure the germs stay out," explains Mrs. Brady. "Besides, Jace is right here. Jace, sweetie, do you mind letting Clarissa squeeze your hand while I wipe her leg?"_

_Silently, his fingers are back around mine again and turning white when I squeeze with all my might, holding in a scream. The stinging is brief and I relax._

_"Thanks," I say, after I'm all bandaged up._

_"No problem, Clary."_

_"Clary?" I ask, puzzled at the nickname._

_"Clarissa takes too long to say."_

_"Oh, alright. Do you... want to be friends?" I ask innocently._

_"I'd like to, but you have cooties. Sorry," Jace apologetically shrugs._

_My eyes narrow and I stick my tongue out. "Ugh, fine. Hmph." Jace looks regretful and, after a moment, he huffs out a sigh.  
_

_"Okay. We're friends, Clary," he says, flashing me a dimple-filled smile. And, just like that, my friendship with the guy that will hurt me the most, is sealed._

* * *

I slid into the seat beside Simon, my tray full of "food" in hand. Maia Roberts, Jordan Kyle, and a few other friends of mine were already there, laughing about something Simon said.

"Oh, hey, Clary!" grinned Maia. I returned her smile and munched on an apple, the only safe thing to eat. "How's your first day been so far?"

"Ugh, terrible. Mrs. Hollingworth yelled at me for not having my hair properly parted," I sighed. "She said it was a 'distraction.'"

Maia stifled a laugh while Simon openly cracked up. "Your hair already _is_ a distraction, little red," he teased. Maia's face suddenly lit up.

"I forgot to tell you guys. Did you hear about the new kids yet?" she gushed. "Their names are-"

"Don't look now, but a super model is coming to our lowly table," Jordan hastily said, suddenly interested in his french fries.

"That's one of them! Isabelle Lightwood. I heard she came here from L.A. with her brother, Jace," said Maia, shoveling potatoes in her mouth.

"What's she doing at our table?" Simon asked, rather loudly.

Isabelle's gaze shifted to Simon who was now looking down at the ground, flushed. She reeked of intimidation, fierceness, and the new Britney Spears perfume. "I'm here for Clary."

Like dominoes, everyone looked at me. "Hi, Izzy."

"Come to my table! I haven't told Jace you're here and I want to see his face when he realizes it's you," she said slyly, her eyes gleaming.

"'It's you?' What about her? Clary, what's she talking about?" Simon raised an eyebrow.

I took a deep breath. "Remember my first day of school here?"

"Couldn't forget it. I rescued you from nearly going into the boy's bathroom when you were looking for B376. Oh, and you were blubbering and crying about some guy you dated from your old school." Isabelle raised an eyebrow.

I shot Simon a look and murmured, "Well, Jace Lightwood was that guy."

"You went out with Jace Lightwood? He's kind of gorgeous! Lucky bitch," gaped Maia, ignoring the pointed, jealous look from Jordan.

"It was 8th grade. No big deal. Middle school relationships are just a bunch of crap," I scowled. Turning to Izzy, I said, "Take me to him. I never got to properly re-introduce myself."

* * *

_-Jace-_

I was FaceTiming with Alec on my iPhone, although the conversation had long ended. The idiot must've thought that he'd hung up on me, which he didn't, and now I was listening in on him and his boyfriend, Magnus, exchange verbal foreplay. I cringed as Magnus told Alec he would look sexy wearing glitter. And only glitter.

Turning away, I saw Isabelle coming over to our lunch table. But she wasn't alone. Trailing behind her was the mysterious red head from literature who'd slammed her pen on my desk and then stared at me for a few uncomfortable seconds. She was so damn familiar. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

She cleared her throat and I put on a lazy grin. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Couldn't resist my charms?" Meanwhile, Isabelle was smiling like an idiot, observing us like a stalker for some reason.

"You still haven't guessed my name? You don't remember me, _Jonathan Christopher_?"

Whoa. My real name. Where the hell did that come from?

"Who are you?" I asked seriously, narrowing my eyes at her.

"_'Clary, do you want to come over to my house? End of the 8th grade party and all. It wouldn't be complete without my girl.'_ Remember anything yet?" Sleeping Beauty mimicked in a voice like mine, although she wasn't sleeping anymore. Her face was calm but her voice was _angry_.

My eyes widened and I momentarily choked on the chicken nugget I was chewing on. Clary. Clary Fray. This girl I was staring at was Clarissa Fray, my childhood best friend. My neighbor. My ex-girlfriend. And_ my biggest regret_.

"Clary? Is that really you?" I sputtered.

No. It couldn't be. Clary was this Edward-Cullen-pale girl with tangled curls, acne on her forehead, nerdy glasses, and a mouthful of braces, that moved away from L.A. three years ago. To New York. This wasn't happening. The lady in front of me had a full figure, flawless porcelain skin, bright green eyes, and a row of perfect teeth that were hidden under a smirk. Clary was gorgeous, and the fact that she clearly didn't realize it, added to the effect.

"Jace Lightwood. You're an asshole, you know that?" Her voice brought me back to reality.

I wasn't expecting that, not that I could let it show. Coolly, I ignored the comment and said, "So it is Clary. Well, you really grew up, huh, Clare-bear?"

"Do _not _call me that. If you have any common sense left, you'll leave me alone and avoid me as much as possible," Clary growled.

I stood up and met her gaze. "You of all people should know that's not going to happen."

At this point, Isabelle came between the both of us. "_Okay!_ As amusing as that reunion was, I feel like I should try to prevent any kind of fight on the first day of school. So, Jace, sit your ass back down, and Clary, maybe you should go back to your table."

"That sounds better. Being near 2000 pounds of ego can make you quite dizzy," Clary hotly replied, spinning on her heel and turning away. I let out a short laugh.

"The least you could do was apologize, you know," Isabelle said casually, but her voice was strained.

"For what?"

"You should know. It was probably the worst shit you've ever pulled, Jace," she chided, getting up to throw her tray away.

_"I realized that, Izzy. Thanks for the reminder,_" I thought to myself with a smirk. Glancing over at Clary, who was laughing, her head rested on some guy's shoulder, I added something to my list of things to do:

1. Do the laundry.  
2. Buy rainbow pants.  
3. Blackmail Alec into wearing the pants.  
4. _Stop screwing stuff up with Clary and fix everything.__  
_

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**What do you guys think so far? Does it suck yet? D:  
**


	4. Jinx

**Chapter numero tres! :)**

**Once again, thank you for the reviews. They boost my self-esteem by a lot. xD I mean, this is my first multi-chapter I've done in a while and I'm reaaaally nervous. :P Anyway, read on! xxx**

**Also, shout out to _The Moonlit Waters _for beta-reading this chapter! Fantastic writer and person right there! :]  
**

* * *

**Jinx**

* * *

The sun was so stunning and illuminating that it hurt my eyes. The area of New York that I lived in tended to be covered in a healthy coating of smog and pollution, dimming the sun's rays. Today, however, everything was at its fullest, including my mood.

"Morning, Mom," I greeted, kissing her on the cheek. She smiled in return, but looked at me skeptically.

"Someone's in a good mood," my mom commented, raising her eyebrows as she sipped her coffee.

"Because I am. I've survived one week of school and now it's finally the weekend!" I twirled around the kitchen, laughing as I almost crashed into a cabinet.

"Then I'll make this quick and painless: we're going over to the Lightwood residence for their house-warming party tonight."

My face immediately fell. "The good mood is gone, dear Mother," I snapped.

"I don't see what the big deal is between you and them. You and the Lightwood children were so close back in California! I mean, I would've thought that you'd be happy that they moved to New York."

"The blonde one can go kiss my-"

"_Clary._"

"Jocelyn," I mimicked her tone. My mom scoffed at me calling her by her first name, but smiled wryly in spite of herself.

"Play nice. All of you have been together since childhood. Time to forget whatever it is that has happened in the past," she said in her annoying 'mother knows best' voice.

And just like that, I was trapped in another memory.

* * *

_"Multiplying _three-digit_ numbers? What's the point of that? Ugh. Math sucks," groans a fifth grade Isabelle, laying her math notebook over her face._

_ "It's easy. You're just not trying. Wait until you get to seventh grade. Now, _that_ is hard math. Well, it's not hard for me, but...," Alec trails off, somewhat smugly. He takes pride in being two years older than us and never fails to rub it in our faces._

_ "How about we go play with Jace?" I suggest, tossing my required reading book up into the air. It hits Church, their pet cat, on the head and he growls menacingly in my direction. I back away slowly._

_ "He's outside with those turds in the other fifth grade class. I don't know why he hangs out with them. They're a bunch of jock-heads," harrumphs Isabelle._

_ "But you're his sister and I'm his best friend. He can't say no to us," I remind her._

_ It's weird, saying that a _boy_ is my best friend. Totally unheard of for our grade, anyway. But, it's true. Ever since first grade, Jace and I have been playing video games together, swapping Alec's shampoo with pink hair dye and taunting the rabid ducks at the park, before running away._

_ Outside the Lightwoods' castle-sized mansion, Jace is playing basketball with Derek and Clay, two jerks in Mr. Roger's fifth grade class._

_ "Marnie Tesslow is hot, don't you think, bro?" grins Derek as he aims for the hoop. He misses the shot._

_ "Yeah, with her Hello Kitty outfits and make up, she's really prissy. My kind of girl," nods Clay._

_ "Nah. She's not my type," shrugs Jace._

_ I'm not ashamed to admit that that makes me internally squeal. Bouncing out the front door, with Isabelle right behind me, we stop just short of where the boys are playing on the driveway._

_ "Hey, it's the Ginger and the Slut," taunts Derek when he notices us. It's jealousy from the other girls in our class that got Izzy her nickname. She likes to wear black leather and borderline appropriate length skirts, but, so what? It suits her._

_ Jace is silent. I'm waiting for him to do his chivalry thing and defend us._

_ Isabelle clenches her fist. "Go screw yourself. Oh, wait, you probably do."_

_ "What's that supposed to mean, Ditzy-belle?"_

_ "Haters and _masturbators_ are my motivators," grins Isabelle. I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop the giggling. Isabelle might be the only person who can match Jace's vulgar language. Derek shoots her a death glare before turning back to basketball. My turn to talk._

_ "Jace, do you want to go biking with Izzy and I? We can go throw balloons at the butt-face ninth graders down the street!"_

_ He rolls his eyes and smirks. "How girly."_

_ "We filled the balloons with rotten pickle juice."_

_ "Girly _and_ lame. Derek and Clay would call me a pansy for doing something as childish as throwing balloons. Just... leave me alone. I'm in the middle of a pick-up game, Clary," Jace says dismissively. He's being... what's that word that mom uses a lot?_Sexist.

_ "It's none of the above! Don't you want to see their reactions when we pelt them with pickle juice balloons?" I persist. Jace releases an aggravated sigh and turns to face me._

_ "Look, Clary. We're in fifth grade now. You've got to grow up. You're kind of a baby, you know. Plus, you're a goody-two-shoes and a teacher's pet. If you just relax, maybe then we can hang out. Stick with Izzy for now."_

_ "God, you don't need to be such an _ass_ about it," I grimace. This is the first time I've ever said a bad word. I feel guilty, yet powerful. I take pleasure in seeing his eyes widen as he takes in the typical goody-goody that he's used to._

_ "I'll see you later," Jace replies with a tone of finality on his voice, while shooting a perfect 3-pointer to emphasize that's he's done talking to me._

_ Friends forever. Bullshit. This is the day that I realized that peer pressure ruins everything. And that Jace is just another giant butt-head in the making._

* * *

Clearly, no matter where the Lightwoods' moved, they made their house look like a 'Home and Garden: House of the Year' model.

Cars filled their driveway and surrounding streets. We had to park four houses down from their house. It was a vast and creamy-brown two-story with an outline of red bricks and white trim. Their yard was a mix of perfectly mowed grass, shrubs, cherry trees and flowers that were beginning to wilt with the upcoming autumn. Coupled with a few birds chirping away in the nearby trees, the whole image was pristine; as if it had been taken straight out of a magazine.

Inside, I immediately felt out of place. The adults, none of whom I knew, were dressed in cocktail formal. Feeling severely underdressed in my short-shorts and an Abercrombie sweatshirt, I struck my hair into a sloppy ballet bun in hopes of looking classier. Needless to say, I failed.

"Clary!" Isabelle grinned at me from across their foyer. Seeing my mom behind me, she quickly shook her hand. "And Mrs. Fray! I haven't seen you in years!"

My mom politely smiled back, but I could feel her radiating disapproval as she judged Izzy in her tight black mini-dress that showed off her tanned, long legs and 'full upper body.' I didn't blame her. Izzy's style from before had only consisted of pink dresses and Mary Janes. Huge change. "Where's your mom?"

Right on cue, Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood were there, hugging awkwardly and accepting the gifts we bought - scented candles and soap from Bath & Body Works. They turned to me. "Clary Fray! You've grown in the last three years. You're like a copy of your mother, both so beautiful," cooed Mrs Lightwood. I blushed and hastily mumbled a thank you.

"Hey! You're that strawberry girl from L.A.!" pointed out a kid from behind me. I somehow knew that it was Max Lightwood, their youngest. He was nine years old now with oversized glasses that made his startling set of blue eyes look larger. He reminded me of a younger Simon. In his hand was a Naruto comic. Just guess why he called me strawberry girl.

"Hi, Max! Strawberry girl thinks that you grew up. You were six when I last saw you, you know," I grinned, ruffling his black hair. Max looked a lot like-

"Clary Fray. So the rumors are true," mused a familiar voice belonging to a tall, pale, blue-eyed guy with strong resemblance to Izzy.

"Nice to see you again, Alec," I waved.

"Yeah, well, here's to hoping you can work your magic on Jace once again," he shrugged.

"Huh?" I quizzically asked, momentarily confused.

"He was different when he was with you three years ago. Now that he's back to being a playerish douche, maybe you can save him again." And just like that, he was back to being stoic and reserved, the old Alec I knew.

* * *

I wandered around the Lightwoods' new house. It was completely re-furnished and looked like a battlefield between the old and the young. There was classical furniture that had been covered with fuzzy pillows, and an antique table that was home to many iPhone chargers. It was probably Izzy's way of modernizing the place.

"And we meet again, Clare-bear," a distinct male voice said, sounding slightly amused.

I whirled around. "What do you want, Jace?"

"Just one conversation not involving threats, punches, or sexual innuendos."

Ugh. "Fine. Talk."

"So demanding. What happened to the cute little redhead from third grade who colored in pictures with me and laughed at my hilarious jokes?"

"One, they were not hilarious. And, two, she's long gone. The last time she existed was in eighth grade at a certain end-of-school-year party." I fought to keep my voice cool.

"Clary, that was four years ago-"

"Your point?" I replied icily, fixing him with a cold glare. "I never forgot, Jace Lightwood."

"Neither have I," he murmured, his eyes distant. His mother's laugh from the foyer seemed to bring him back to the present and his easy smile returned.

I abruptly changed the subject. "Max really has grown up. He's into comics, huh?"

"_Into_? He breathes Teen Titans, exhales Star Wars and dreams in manga and anime. You missed Halloween last year. Max won best costume for his Superman outfit. I tried it on myself. I think that I'm the only person who can make spandex and a cape look sexy." Jace flashed his winning smile and did a classic Superman pose that made his large muscles stick out.

I snorted. "It's a good thing I wasn't there. I'm sure that I'd have been scarred for life."

"Nah, I beg to differ. You would've loved it. Blue tights, swoopy hair. A total turn on."

"Keep dreaming, Lightwood," I laughed.

"And I will, Fray. When you find yourself stuck in another situation, like you always do, it'll probably be me saving your ass. Just not necessarily dressed like Superman."

"I'm not that clumsy and I'm not some damsel in distress," I protested before backing up and hitting the corner of a bookshelf. "_Ow_."

Jace cracked up. "My point exactly."

I felt myself turn an embarrassing shade of red.

"Aw, she's blushing. That's kind of adorable, Fray," he said endearingly. I blushed harder. There was a long silence after that. "Well. Nice talk."

Jace was gone, probably disappearing into the kitchen, leaving me in dizziness and confusion. If one thought was clear, though, I was not going to fall for him again. He wouldn't get to me this time.

I think that I might have just jinxed myself.

* * *

**Opinions? :D Click that blue button! You know you want to. ;)**


	5. Dating the Enemy

**A short little chapter for y'all! A longer one to come. I think.  
**

** And, also, notice the cover on the story? XD Ugh, it's actually a really big picture being squished into a tiny box. That's why all you can read is the word "Chasing." Better go fix that. But, yeah, I'll put the link to the cover on my profile so you can really see it!**

**Thanks for the support everyone! My summer has literally sucked and you guys make it better. :)  
**

* * *

**Dating the Enemy  
**

* * *

"So, on a scale of one to Adele, how bad was the break-up between you and Jace?" Maia giggled while she painted her nails a rosy pink on my bed.

"We didn't really break up. We just sort of... ended it. Well, he did. I was just a victim," I replied, recalling the moment. Right before a memory could cause me to blank out, I shoved it away and focused on the present. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now. Um, tell me about what's up with you and Jordan."

I was never good at girl-talk but, hey, I was trying, wasn't I? Maia shot me a sympathetic smile before diving right into yesterday's lunch date. They'd went to Red Lobster where Jordan stuck his hand into the lobster tank. No wonder Simon was his best friend. They had a similar stupidity level. Anyway, the manager had marched in and nearly kicked the two out because Jordan was "disturbing the lobsters with his ruckus." Maia, being super persuasive,- Simon and I used to think she could actually perform a Jedi mind trick -convinced the manager that Jordan had some rare impulse disease that caused a serious obsession between him and sea food. He couldn't help it. Therefore, the guy apologized for being ignorant to Jordan's medical condition and gave them 10% off.

"He's such an idiot, but that's why he's cute," gushed Maia, nearly spilling the nail polish all over my bed. "I don't know what went on between you and Jace, but can't you move past it? Give the guy a shot? He is _fine_! That hair... and _those eye_s_! _He's just so-"

"_Maia._ The guy is a prick. Trust me. He cares about no one but himself and his reputation. I learned that first hand," I interjected sharply.

"I just want you to experience the happiness that I've got with my Jordan!" Maia giggled. Love, or whatever she was experiencing, really changed her. During sophomore year, she was a completely different person, all withdrawn and a bit moody. I _was_ happy for her and I suppose I _kind of_ wanted to be happy again... but not with Jace. Never again.

My phone rang, filling my bedroom with "Somebody That I Used To Know," my ringtone. Maia mouthed the words to the song while painting her big toe. The number was unknown.

"Hello?"

"Guess who." Even though the sound was distorted and crackly with static, I could sense the arrogance coming from the other end.

"How did you get my number, Jace?"

Maia's eyes widened, motioning for me to put it on speaker.

"That friend of yours with the brown hair and skinny jeans. Sam or Seth or-"

"_Simon_? I'm going to kill him," I muttered.

"Not before you go on a date with me."

I blinked. Did I hear him right? "A date," I repeated.

"You know, a recreational activity performed by two or more people, intended to effect the romantic aspect of one's life-"

"Well, my life's romantic aspect does not need to be effected," I countered.

"Come on. I haven't seen you in years. Can't we hang out? Like old times? I'm doing my puppy dog face right now. You can't resist," he replied, a smile creeping in his voice. I opened my mouth to say no, just before Maia began flailing her arms around and bouncing on my bed, causing it to groan in protest.

"Uno momento," I said into the receiver before turning to her. "Calm your spazz attack. What is it?"

"If you decline, I will tell Jocelyn about that one night you got really drunk and ran around the neighborhood in nothing but gold paint and an I Heart New York shirt," she snapped.

"_You wouldn't_."

"I would. Now say yes! You haven't had a date in forever. I'm getting concerned, y'know."

"Fine, I'll say yes. But only because of you! Not because I actually like him," I pointed out, emphasizing the last part. With a sigh, I placed the cellphone near my ear. "Yes."

There was a long pause on the other end and finally a, "It's not like you could ever say no to me, Clare-bear. I'm amazingly gorgeous. Clearly, you still feel _something _for me."

"Hey, I agreed to one date, not a life-changing romantic journey."

"Same thing. Anyways, meet me at Une Cuisine Délicieuse around 7," Jace said in a fancy French accent.

Une Cuisine Délicieuse was one of the more expensive, high-class restaurants in Brooklyn. It was the kind where you'd find red cocktail dresses, champagne glasses in the hand of every other person, and waiters in tuxedos. I glanced over at Maia who was practically dying on my bed, whispering, "My little Clary's going on a date!" over and over.

"Alright. I'll be there," I replied.

"And Clary?"

"_What now?_"

"Dress pretty. I'm quite sure the staff would kick us out if you showed up in your jeans and Chuck Taylor's."

"Hey, I can be classy when I want to," I protested.

"You're funny."

"Oh, shut up. You just asked me out. Is this how you usually treat your dates?"

"No. Only the special ones," he said with an edge of slyness in his tone.

"I'm having second thoughts already," I groaned.

"Trust me, your mind will be made up by the end of the night."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I scoffed, but there was no answer. He was already gone. Reluctantly, I looked back at Maia, expecting her to be jumping for joy. Instead, she was talking on her own cellphone.

"Hey, Isabelle. We sort of met once. But, anyways, Clary is going on a date with Jace and her closet sucks. I'd let her borrow some of my clothes, but they're just not good enough-"

"Say no more," I heard Izzy interrupt. "I'll be over at Clary's in five minutes with a rack of clothes and a box of stilettos."

Maia said her goodbyes and hung up. I glared at her. "What the hell was that?"

"Gee, you're welcome! Don't say it, I know I'm an amazing friend," she cockily said in a sing-song voice. "Isabelle and I are going to make you look fab-u-lous! Seriously. I want this date to be perfect for you. The only guy you've hung out with over high school is Simon. That needs to change soon."

My sworn enemy was going on a date with me and my two best friends were supporting it. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if the sun fell out of the sky. Stranger things were happening.

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews! Don't stop! ...please. Might self-esteem might go down a bit if you don't. No pressure. xD  
**


	6. Turning Tables

**And, like I said, here's a longer chapter for you guys! An Adele-related chapter title. I just love her to pieces. But, I digress. Read on! :)  
**

**P.S.- Sorry about the OOC Maia. I hope it doesn't bother y'all too much.  
**

* * *

**Turning Tables  
**

* * *

-_Jace-_

I asked Clary out on a date for two reasons.

First of all, I was pretty sure she wasn't even Clary anymore. If she could go from sort of pretty to gorgeous- yes, I said it -without any type of surgery or injection in only three years, who's to say her personality couldn't do a one-eighty either? Back in L.A., Clary was stubborn, annoying, nosy, and a pain in the ass, but compassionate, hilarious, determined, and understanding at the same time. There was a big possibility she got rid of all her good traits and was a pure bitch now. How could I know? I just barely had a few minutes of conversation with her, which brought me back to why I asked her out. I wanted to make sure Clary was still...Clary.

Secondly, I was on an internal mission to get her back. Before I screwed up on that one fateful night in May, we were dating, and it might've been the happiest time period of my life. Sure, we were 8th graders, so we didn't do anything too serious, but it was still considered going out in my book. Those few moments when Izzy and Alec would leave us alone were paradise. I'd play video games, with her head resting on my lap, while she talked. Clary had this strong voice you just wanted to listen to. I tried to convince her to do public speaking, but she was certain the nerves would get to her.

"I'd probably puke on the front row or get really sweaty or just _pass out_!" she'd grimace.

"And I'd have a barf bag at the ready, a portable fan in my hands, and arms waiting to catch you when you'd fall," I'd reply, nuzzling my face in her fiery red hair.

"You're kind of amazing, Jace Lightwood," Clary would murmur contently.

"I know I am, Clare-bear."

* * *

Judging by the way Isabelle hustled past me in the hallway, pushing a clothing rack covered in gowns and a box full of heels, which nearly ran me over by the way, she must've found out about the date.

"Slow down, Iz. You'll turn innocent people into roadkill at that pace," I called after her. She spun on the heel of her furry boots to look back at me.

"I'm on my way to work my magic, so there _is_ no slowing down. Also, Jace, don't mess this up. You might be able to get her to forgive you, you know," Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Why do you care what goes on between us?"

"You're my brother and she's one of my best friends. I can't deal with all the tension in the air!"

"What if it's sexual tension?" I teased, a seductive smile on my face.

She blinked. "Even worse. Now, go get ready. Oh, and wear black! I don't want you to clash with Clary's outfit."

"Yeah, because that's my biggest concern: getting stopped by the fashion police," I smirked while she maneuvered the rack down the stairs, an accident waiting to happen.

My thoughts drifted to the day I told Clary I liked her. It wasn't planned. It just happened. Lots of things seemed to be happening that way lately.

* * *

_It's the last few weeks of summer before 8th grade starts. I'm watching Toy Story 2 in the basement with Alec, Izzy, and Clary, all of us sprawled out along the large leather couch.  
_

_"Should I be concerned that a toy doll's life is more exciting than mine?" Alec asks, irritated, when the credits start rolling.  
_

_"Um, excuse me, but Buzz Lightyear is an _action figure, _not a doll_. _Get it right!" chides Isabelle._

_Clary's staring at our flat screen, unusually quiet.  
_

_"And what's your opinion of the movie?" I ask her, trying to coax her into talking.  
_

_"It's really amazing, seeing how far Woody would go to rescue Jessie. Makes me wish I had a guy that would care for me like that," Clary murmurs dreamily.  
_

_"Wish granted," I grin smugly before realizing what I've just implied.  
_

_"Well, I mean in a relationship-girlfriend-boyfriend way, Jace. Not like a best friend," she replies, brushing it off.  
_

_I stare at her for a beat, taking in her wild strawberry hair, the sprinkle of freckles over her pale nose, and the green laser beams she has for eyes that are hidden by glasses. It's like lightning when the realization strikes. No wonder I haven't been interested in any of the other 7th grade girls. Clary. I like Clary. As in, like-like. And it feels right, too. I mean, who's a girl I've depended on since childhood besides Izzy? Clary.  
_

_"Wish granted," I say again, more seriously and softly.  
_

_"Wait... what are you trying to say, Jace?" Clary asks skeptically.  
_

_"I like you," I state. The words are foreign and weird, and saying them out loud and not in my head makes them seem even stranger. But, it's true. I have a crush on Clary Fray.  
_

_"Yet, since 5th grade, you've been treating me like I'm some stupid girl. What's that about?" she huffs.  
_

_"I don't know. I was the stupid one I guess. I didn't really want to think about feelings and stuff two years ago. But, I have feelings, and they're about you."  
_

_Clary fidgets with her hands, flushed. She looks cute when she blushes, the pink tinting her white cheeks. After a moment, the corners of her lips turn up and into a smile. "Well, I guess I kind of like you, too."  
_

_"Then... do you want to be my girl friend?" I ask slowly. Girls are always asking me out and it's never the other way around. I pray I'm doing this right. I flash her a hopeful smile and it seems to make her relax a bit more.  
_

_"Okay," is all Clary says.  
_

_Just like that, we're together, Clary and I. Then, my surroundings come into focus and Izzy and Alec are staring at us like we've just appeared out of nowhere.  
_

_"It's about time," Isabelle nods approvingly.  
_

_"That was expected and predictable, but really entertaining to watch. Congrats, you lovebirds," Alec muses.  
_

_About a week later, Alec confessed that he liked some sophomore _boy. _I'd like to think Clary and I inspired him to come out of the closet, but he swears that he accidentally kissed Creepy Caitlin and realized girls just weren't his thing. It's not like I cared though. Now my brother and I finally had something in common: a serious crush on someone._

* * *

I slipped on a black suit, tie and everything, following Isabelle's advice, and strode down to Une Cuisine Délicieuse. Using my ability to make any female swoon, I'd managed to convince the manager to give Clary and I a discount, provided that we stayed out of trouble.

No promises.

I leaned against the glass double doors, looking for any glimpse of scarlet among the gray crowd of New Yorkers. It seemed like the minutes were fleeting and, soon, my iPhone read 7:33. I sighed and tried to mask my disappointment. There _were _other girls out there. Besides, not to brag, but I was gorgeous. I could snag any of them. Well, all except one.

I pulled on the door handle to go cancel my reservation, just before I heard the familiar airy laugh of a certain person I'd been waiting half an hour for.

"Such a gentleman, opening doors for me already. Sorry about the wait, Izzy and Maia got sort of carried away."

I glanced back and felt my breath catch. To cover it up, I cleared my throat and gave her a crooked smile. "Who are you and what have you done to Clarissa Fray?"

_-Clary-_

"Carried away" was an understatement. I'd been ambushed by a lifetime supply of skimpy clothing, pointed heels, and the complete Loreal Paris collection. As promised, Isabelle showed up a few minutes later with a metal clothing rack you'd find at the mall, hangers askew and boxes slightly rumpled. I wanted to ask her how on earth she pushed it through the New York streets, and more startling, up the stairs, but there were more important things to worry about.

"I can do her hair," Maia offered, her blood sugar levels slowly diminishing until she was calm and collected. Or, well, as close as she could get.

"And I've found the perfect outfit! Jace has a thing for the color blue, but it'll clash with your eyes, so I found this," Izzy proudly stated, pulling something off the rack.

The dress was strapless silk and fell to my knees, but the color was all I cared about. It was the perfect in-between shade of blue and green, to compliment my eyes. Slipping it on, I found that the slightest movement made it seemingly shimmer blue and green. Therefore, twirling around made it look like I was in the middle of a turquoise tornado. There was a fashion belt to accentuate my non-existent figure, and, with some simple black stilettos and a silver clutch, I felt like Cinderella.

"Hmm... okay, done," Maia swept the eyeshadow brush one last time over my eyelid before stepping back to admire her work. "Now, you have some fantastic smoky eyes." Izzy smiled in approval and the two silently high-fived.

After a beat of silence, Maia scoffed. "Well? What are you waiting for, Clary?"

"Huh?" I asked, still stunned from my transformation.

"Get your ass out of here," Isabelle rolled her eyes, but her voice was teasing. "It's already 7:20. You required extra attention, so it took longer."

"7:20? Oh, sh- Jace probably thinks I stood him up. I bet he's left by now," I sighed.

"Please. This date means a lot to him. He'd wait at least an hour before ditching. Now, go!" Izzy shooed me away, so off I went.

* * *

"Who are you and what have you done to Clarissa Fray?" Jace mused, his easy-going voice bringing me back to the present.

"I told you I could look classy," I grinned smugly.

"You look beautiful," he said, as if it was a fact you'd find in an encyclopedia. I blushed in spite of myself and broke the silence.

"So. Date. Is it still going to happen?" I attempted to sound nonchalant, but probably came off as eager. Jace looked briefly amused before opening the glass door to Une Cuisine Délicieuse, making a sweeping gesture with his hand.

"After you, my lady."

* * *

"Why would you go skinny dipping at a water park? God, Jace, there are kids there. They don't need to see anything too repulsive at such a young age," I commented at the story he told me as I amateurishly tried to get some type of European meat lump on my fork.

"Hey, repulsive is a harsh word. I prefer extremely sexy. Or maybe stunningly gorgeous? And, by the way, you use a knife to eat that, not a fork," Jace simpered at my struggles with my dinner.

I'd been too overwhelmed by the foreign menu- and I was in AP French so that said a lot- to choose anything, so Jace ordered many unpronounceable delicacies for me. I caught the blonde teen waitress, Kaelie, according to her name tag, giving him the glance over you'd do to a cute guy at the mall. All of a sudden I felt annoyed and irritated. Jealousy. And then I was pissed off that I even felt that way. Why should I care if little miss implants had her eye on Jace? I didn't actually _like _him.

Right?

"You're thinking about something," Jace observed, slurping his Coke.

"I am," I agreed.

"So? Enlighten me."

"I'm thinking about our first date to be honest," I admitted sheepishly. Jace's look softened.

"Really? Oh, 8th grade. Lots of memories."

"You took me ice skating, I fell on my ass, and we spent the rest of the night trying to get me to walk," I recalled. Once again, my mind was at war. Why was thinking of when Jace and I were together? I suppose it was a side effect of being around him again. It felt weird, yet familiar.

"You asked for an ice pack at an _ice skating rink_ and the manager thought you were extremely stupid. So, then, for an hour, we sat on the ice, waiting for your butt to heal up. It was the biggest ice pack you could get after all," Jace grinned. "We had some fun times."

My racing thoughts came to a decision. This whole friendly act with Jace had to end. I couldn't deal with being around him. The nostalgia was too much. "Well, the fun times are over. I've got to go." I dug around in my pocket and pulled out a $20. "I bet the bill is kind of crazy, so, here's my share."

"Clary-"

"This was nice, I admit. But it doesn't change anything," I interrupted frostily.

"I was going to say sorry for, you know, that night," Jace replied solemnly. "You don't know the whole story. I- I was protecting you."

"Bull. That's got to be the most cliche excuse I've ever heard. I'll tell Simon to add it to our list, just after, 'It's not you, it's me.'"

"You think you know everything, don't you? There was more to it and if you'd just freaking listen to me-"

"All I know is that you announced that I was nothing to you, a stupid play thing, to our entire class! Surround sound speakers and everything! That's all I need to know," I growled.

With wonderful timing, Kaelie scurried over with a skeptical look on her face. "My boss is complaining about the noise at booth #23. Normally, I'd have to kick you out, but since it's _you,_" Kaelie batted her eyelashes at Jace, "I'll let it slide. Just please quiet down."

"Don't worry, I was just leaving." I pretended to not notice her victorious, flirtatious expression and left the restaurant.

* * *

I sprawled out on my queen-sized bed, hugging a pillow to my chest, while music droned on in the back. Adele was belting out the chorus of Rolling in the Deep. It was like my iPod could sense my mood. Technology these days. My phone started vibrating, chiming out Call Me Maybe, Simon's ringtone- a song he swore he hated yet secretly hummed to himself while playing video games- and I pressed "Answer."

"Hi."

"Not happy to see me call?"

"Technically I'm hearing you call."

"Smartass. So, how'd the date with Prince Not-So-Charming go? Sorry about giving him your number. He told me he'd tell that Isabelle chick he caught me looking up her skirt, which I wasn't, if I didn't hand it over," Simon grimaced.

"To answer your question, I'd rather be beaten with Izzy's toy whip than go on a second date."

"That bad? You're welcome to play Final Fantasy with me in the mean time. Eric misses you."

"Creepy neighbor Eric? I'll pass. I just want to sleep," I muttered, rolling over.

"Fine, I'll leave you to go wallow in your self pity. Sweet dreams, Fray," Simon cooed over the line before hanging up.

Sleep didn't come easy.


	7. Possibility

**Sorry for my absence! I had writer's block. Still do. xD **

**I wanted to give you all _somethin__g _at least, so, here you go. I'm really sorry it's not that long. I'm struggling with ideas, so getting a long chapter is kind of difficult. Sigh.  
**

**Lots of foreshadowing of how Jace "protected" Clary at the party. Also, lots of Mortal Instrument Shadowhunter references that I'll be sticking in from time to time. Lastly, time to see things from Isabelle's point of view! :)  
**

* * *

**Possibility  
**

* * *

_-Isabelle-_

People always said I looked like my mom, but I really didn't see it. And, at the moment, our personalities were polar opposites.

"It's interesting, isn't it? All these myths of the Nephilim really captivate me. If only they were real," she droned on while preparing to go to work.

Leave it to my mother to be interested in, of all things, history. Myths and legends to be exact. Tales and folklore were her life. Literally. It was the reason she met my dad and fell in love, since they were both interested in the same things. Also, it was the reason we moved to New York. Mom and dad had been curators, as in the big bosses, back at the museum in L.A., but after a job offer at some mythology museum here, well... They couldn't resist.

"Nepha-what?" I replied, looking up from my phone. I hadn't been listening since I was too busy thinking about Jace's date with Clary. I hope it went well. They were a pretty good match before Jace's little asshole confession back in middle school. Those were the days. I was kind of a flirt back then, wasn't I? It wasn't like I was a slut though. That was Jace. I was just a girl who liked her leather skirts.

My mom's voice ended my brief trip down memory lane. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, as if what she was talking about was common knowledge. "Call them Shadowhunters. That's easier to pronounce. And they protected the world from demons."

"No. Way. Tell me more!" I feigned extreme curiosity.

"I can tell you'd be a terrible Shadowhunter already, my daughter," said my mom, matching my sarcastic tone. "Unless, of course, the demons were shoes. You'd be the best at capturing those."

"Not true! They'd have to be reasonably priced and designer," I grinned, wagging a finger in the air. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

"I'll be home late. We've got a big exhibit opening tonight, all about the Nephilim, angels, and the Mortal Instruments. You're dad's already there setting up. Don't wait up." My mom pinned on her name tag, bearing the name 'Maryse' in block letters, and walked out the door in her gray slacks and black hair that was pulled up in a bun.

Nope. We could look alike, but we did not dress alike.

And, with the perfect timing that my family was blessed with, Jace stomped into the house shortly after mom left. With his black suit, he blended into the night and, hopefully, didn't clash with the little outfit Maia and I dressed Clary in.

"So?" I greeted him.

"What?" he replied, looking up. I noticed his golden eyes were blazing with frustration.

"So, how did it go?" I asked again, skeptically.

"She left early. Said it didn't change anything. God, I'm trying. I'm sorry. Doesn't she get it? And Clary doesn't even know the whole story!" Jace spat.

"Well, the 'whole story' is kind of hard to believe. You don't really think Sebastian, or whatever his name was, would've gone through with it, do you? It's not very good reasoning to break a girl's heart. He could've been bluffing," I shrugged, thinking back to after the 8th grade party. I'd stomped up to Jace with a simple, "What the hell?" and he'd told me about Sebastian threatening him if he didn't dump Clary.

"Sebastian's in jail now for raping a minor last year, Isabelle. He was serious. That could've been Clary. Besides, I was going to tell her everything on the last day of 8th grade, except she happened to be moving and never came. When I dropped by to explain things after school, the Fray's were gone. You know the story, Izzy."

I nodded and let out a sigh. "Okay, then why don't you just tell her the truth? That you were just being the protective boyfriend?"

"Because she won't let me! Every time I try to tell her, she'll stop me!"

"Well. Looks like you've got a problem," I stated glumly. "You'll have to get her back some other way."

"No shit, Sherlock," huffed my brother. "I don't know what to do. She can hate me for all I care, but I want her to know that I'm not an ass."

I shot him a look.

"Okay, not that _big _of an ass," he reluctantly corrected himself.

We sat in our living room in silence, not even bothering to turn on the TV. I curled up on the couch and closed my eyes, just before I heard the clomping on the stairs.

"What's with the yelling?" demanded a familiar quiet and deep voice, belonging to none other than Alec.

"You think _they _were being loud? Alec, you know we were making _much_ more noise," a silkier voice teased. Ah, Magnus Bane. You had to love him and his sexual humor. I looked up and, sure enough, my brother was turning red thanks to his boyfriend. Magnus turned to us. "What's the big problem?"

"How do you win back a girl that hates you? Jace could use the advice," I piped up, earning me a scowl from the other side of the couch.

"Well, Alec and I got together at a party. Lots of people do. Go throw one. I'll buy the glitter," winked Magnus.

"I can't just go throw a random-" Jace began before abruptly cutting himself off. His expression changed completely, from grim to hopeful. "Wait, it won't be so random after all."

"Yeah? Well?" I coaxed him.

"Today is Friday the 17th, right?"

"And yesterday was Thursday the 16th. This isn't some Rebecca Black song, Jace."

"And tomorrow is Saturday, the 18th, a.k.a.-"

"-Clary's birthday," I finished for him with realization in my voice.

"You knew her birthday _without _Facebook. It must be love," mused Magnus. "Well, have fun with your teenage drama. Ta-ta."

Fun. That wasn't exactly the word I'd use, since-

"We're throwing Clary a surprise birthday party. She was always a party person," Jace spoke my thoughts aloud.

This could either go very wrong or very right.

* * *

**Well? Are you guys interested in this surprise party? I hope so. :P Review with your opinions! They help a lot! :D  
**


	8. Eighteen Candles

**This is what's happening _before _the surprise party. Preparation stuff. And flashbacks. It was all going to be one chapter, but I got the feeling it would be way too long! So, I cut it in half and this is the first part of Clary's 18th birthday. :D  
**

**Also, there's a little snippet of the beginning of what happened on _that one night_. Yeah. I used italics because it's that important (and makes it seem dramatic). :P  
**

**Anyways, read and review! The next chapter will be up soon. Hopefully.  
**

* * *

**Eighteen Candles  
**

* * *

_The school bell rings, signifying freedom for the day. I release a sigh of relief because, tomorrow, I'll be done with 8th grade forever. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head down to the bus doors, nearly making it outside before a familiar silky voice stops me._

_"Hey, Clare-bear," croons Jace, stepping out of the shadows. I lightly laugh and attempt to put my serious face on._

_"You know I hate it when you call me that, Jacey," I retort._

_"And that's exactly why I call you it," he grins, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Anyways, I've got a royal invite for a miss Clarissa Fray. Do you know where I can find her?"_

_"She's usually around here, stalked by a blonde-headed asshole."_

_"Ouch," Jace says with mock-hurt while we begin walking out._

_"So? An invite? What for? Spill the beans," I press on, pushing the door open. We step out into the bus circle that's teeming with black and yellow vehicles of dried gum and unsanitary seats. Lucky for me, I don't need to ride the bus. I walk home with Izzy and Jace._

_"Clary, do you want to come over to my house? End of the 8th grade party and all. It wouldn't be complete without my girl," Jace grins, taking my hand._

_I always love it when he calls me "his girl." I still feel the butterflies in my stomach and the rapid beating of my heart, even though Jace and I have already been dating for 9 months- the entire school year. You'd think I'd be immune to the way he absentmindedly puts his arm around my shoulder, or wipes sauce off of my chin when we have spaghetti for lunch by now. But, no. Jace has made me feel special this whole time. Seeing other girls' daggers in their eyes when the two of us walk by never gets old. For once, I finally have something that no one else can have, and it feels pretty damn awesome._

_"You're doing it again," Jace muses._

_I blink. "Huh? Oh. Wait, what am I doing?"_

_He snorts and pulls me closer to him, causing some of the other 8th graders to either shoot me murderous looks or stare at Jace dreamily. "That thing where you just blank out on me and leave the planet for a few seconds. Take me with you next time. I can't stand Alec's emo-phase any longer," he teases. "Anyways, what do you think? Are you going to come?"_

_"To the party? Yeah, okay," I smile, back in the swing of things. We pad over to the 3rd pine tree in front of the main entrance which is where we all meet up before walking to the Lightwood manor. I catch sight of Isabelle flirting with the foreign exchange kid, Meliorn, and realize it'll probably be a few more minutes before we can leave._

_All of a sudden, Jace goes rigid in my arms. I look up at him quizzically but he doesn't meet my gaze. It's because he's locked in a stare down involving himself and Sebastian Verlac, a somehow popular douche that goes to the local high school- a sophomore to be specific. I barely see him around, but the cloud of rumors that follow him make me feel like I _know_ him. Plus, Sebastian's the cousin of one of Jace's ex-girlfriends, Shelly. _

_"Jace?" I call, shaking him a little. _

_"Uh, can you walk home with Isabelle today? I have something to do. I'll see you at the party though. Tonight at seven. Okay?" Jace mumbles, not giving me his full attention. He's still staring at Sebastian, who now has his hand up Molly Pennington's skirt. He's a player, just like Jace was. Simply looking at him makes me feel violated, with the pale blonde hair and beady black eyes. Sebastian's always had that pedophile vibe to him._

_"Yeah, sure. What are you going to do though?" I ask, my hands tightening on Jace's arm._

_"I have to talk to Sebastian. Guy stuff." And, with that, he breaks free of my grip and crosses the campus to Mr. I-Have-Blackholes-For-Eyes._

_Isabelle strolls over, replacing where Jace was just standing, and looks around. "Where's my brother?"_

_"He had to go talk to Sebastian," I shrug. "He says that we should walk home without him."_

_"Weird, but, okay. Did he already invite you to the party?" Izzy asks, her chipper attitude back again._

_ I nod and we spend the rest of the way talking about what we're going to wear. I can't help but glance back at Jace just before we leave school grounds, who seems to be in a heated argument with Sebastian. Both of them are using large hand gestures, and Jace's mouth is in a fierce smirk. I brush it off. There's nothing wrong. Guy stuff, just like he said, right? I'll see him at the party tonight anyways. No problem.  
_

* * *

I jolted awake from my dream, running a hand through my mess of curls. Ugh, Friday's date with Jace had me thinking about that _night_ again. This was getting annoying. Sleepily, I got up and headed downstairs to the kitchen where my mother was already awake.

"Hey, you're up early. It's only seven," she said, looking up from her newspaper.

"Well, I had a... bad dream," I responded a bit carefully while rummaging around in the freezer for the Eggo's. I pulled out the frozen waffles and popped them into the toaster.

"Well, I'm sure today will make you forget all about it. It is a special occasion after all."

Huh? "Special occasion," I repeated.

My mom gaped at me, an incredulous look in her eyes. "Clarissa Fray. Please tell me you haven't forgotten that you're 18 today, right?"

Now, _that _was a shock. I'd been so caught up with Jace drama that I'd forgotten I was now a legal adult. I finally had the chance to be looked at as a mature lady, and not some crazy teenager with booze in the backseat like the rest of society seemed to think.

"Uh, yeah, of course I remember!" I tried to say convincingly, but my mom saw right through me.

"You must be pretty preoccupied to forget your own birthday. Anyways, I've got to work late today, so I'll give you your gift now," she grinned, pulling out a compact golden box, the size of an iPhone maybe, from behind her. I watched curiously while she lifted the lid up, pulling out something thin and shiny that glinted in the sunlight.

A diamond bracelet.

I held out my hand while she latched it on. Immediately, I felt the weight of the jewelry drag my wrist down, but it's not like I cared. I was too mesmerized by the diamonds' clarity and simple beauty.

"Your father gave this to me a long time ago, but I could never bring myself to wear it. I knew it would get lost somehow, so I saved it for this moment," my mom murmured. Her eyes were starting to look glassy, which never happened. She wasn't one to show much emotion... unless it was about my dad. I didn't know much about him except for the fact that he died when I was a baby.

"Thanks, mom. I love it. It's gorgeous." I managed to give her a hug before she broke away and picked up her briefcase.

"Enjoy your birthday! I'll try to make it home early for tonight!" she called out the door.

"Tonight? What's tonight?" my eyebrows quirked up.

"You'll see," my mother said with the same slyness that rivaled another's. Jace.

* * *

I finally caved in and spent some of the birthday money I'd saved up over the years. Taking a wad of cash, probably $40, from out of my secret hiding place in my sock drawer, I headed over to the mall. I also dialed up Simon a few hours later to see if he wanted to join me.

"Hey, Simon," I greeted him while slurping a blizzard from Dairy Queen.

"Yoyoyo. What's up, Homie-C?" he replied, his voice crackling over the line.

I groaned into the receiver. "Don't do that ever again, please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely, and it's your birthday, fine. What's up, little miss 'I'm eighteen'?"

"Not much. I've got birthday money and I'm at the Crossroads mall. Want to join me on a fashion journey? I bought a cute dress and I'm not sure if it's one I really want."

"Um..." There was a pause on the other side and I could just see him thinking of an excuse. The only thing I wondered was why. He could just tell me that he didn't feel like it. "I'm, uh, busy. But I can pick you up from the mall around 6:30!"

"Okay," I replied slowly. "Okay, sure."

"Also, think you can change into the so-called cute dress you bought? And maybe do your make-up?"

"What's going on, Simon?"

"Nothing," he replied hastily, tipping off my lie detector. "Just- please. For me?"

"Yeah, whatever. You better have a good reason."

"Alright, cool. I'll pick you up at the food court entrance. Later, Clary!" I could've sworn I'd heard Isabelle saying, "Did you stall her?" but before I could question him...

Click. The line went dead.

I was thinking about how suspicious the call was, just when something in the window of a cute little boutique, Little Wonders, caught my eye: a medium-sized glass sculpture of a merry-go-round, with little flecks of color on the horses. I didn't notice it just because it looked beautiful, but for sentimental reasons instead.

The statue was the same exact one I'd pointed out to Jace when we went shopping in L.A., the week before he dumped me at the party.

* * *

_"Jace! Look at this!" I squeal, pointing at the carousel sculpture that's on display at the glass blower shop. There are eight horses on it, each unique with their own accessories. It's dainty and fragile and breakable and _perfect.

_"What, that glass carnival ride?" he asks, walking over to where I'm standing._

_"Yeah. I think it's the best looking out of all the statues here," I sigh contently. "It's just so detailed. That one has a star on its cheek and this one has one of those skirt things on it. Oh, and the one on the back has a heart on its butt!"  
_

_"Like a 'My Little Pony?'" Jace grins, lacing his fingers with mine.  
_

_"Well, sure, but classier. These are horses, not ponies. There's a difference," I point out in my best know-it-all voice.  
_

_"Do you like it?"  
_

_"_Love_ it. My mom took me to the state fair all the time. Remember? I went with you guys for most of elementary school."  
_

_"I remember now. You'd sprint to the merry-go-round and demand to ride on it," Jace chuckles. "How much is it?"  
_

_"Um, $30," I say, squinting at the price tag.  
_

_"Shoot. I've only got $15. I'll get it for you next time, Clary," he says with light determination in his voice. I blush at how he'd be willing to spend his money on a glass statue for me.  
_

_"Aww, you don't have to," I shrug, even though I really do want him to buy it. It's just something girls say. But, in the end, Jace never got it for me and it's not like I would've accepted it if he did._

_ You can't bribe a broken heart.  
_

* * *

I glanced at the price sticker on the glass carousel. $65. It was even more expensive than in Los Angeles.

"Ugh, the best things in life are overpriced," I muttered to myself, checking my phone. 6:30, the time Simon said he was going to pick me up. Quickly, I went into the JCPenny bathroom and slipped on the dress like he asked. It was slightly similar to the outfit Maia and Izzy made me wear for the date, except a lot more 'age appropriate.' It was strapless and ended at my knees, but poofier and colorful, with floral print and a hot pink belt at the waist. I hurriedly traced my eyelashes with dark liner and smacked some lip gloss on. Not bad for using a public bathroom as a changing room.

Out in the mall parking lot, I found Simon's dingy old, pale gray van that he used to drive around during his band days during sophomore and junior year. The sides were covered in graffiti, bearing words like Lawn Chair Crisis, Millennium Lint, and Rock Solid Panda, each a band name at one point. After all, they'd rename theirselves every week.

"Hop in, birthday girl," Simon motioned to the passenger seat. "Nice dress, too."

"Yeah, well I better be wearing it for a purpose," I retorted, buckling in.

"Oh, you are. But the outfit is missing something." Simon pulled out a piece of cloth from his pocket and dangled it in the air. A blindfold. Before I could protest, he shot me his strongest, "Trust me," look. I reluctantly turned around and he knotted it tightly around my head. "Now, shut up and enjoy the ride. We're going somewhere special."

With a sigh, I settled into the seat, running my hands along the material that was making me temporarily blind.


	9. Replay

**Confrontations and answers, aka, _that night._ Intense stuff, brah. And this chapter is the longest so far I think. Lots of conversation and less on description, so I hope you don't mind. :)**

**Can I get to 125-150 reviews? Long shot, but it sure would make me happy! I think this chapter deserves it. :D**

* * *

**Replay  
**

* * *

I felt the quick breeze of a door being opened and Simon's hands on my back, gently pushing me in that direction. I unsteadily moved a few steps forward before he stopped me and started to undo the knot on my blindfold. The pressure on my eyes dropped away like the cloth and I opened them to a pitch black room.

"_Surprise!_" yelled a chorus of people who I could faintly see in the dark, jumping up from their hiding places.

Colorful flashing strobe lights flickered on, momentarily blinding me. And then I could see. _Oh, _I could see.

I was at Pandemonium, one of the trendy New York nightclubs, but the whole place looked like it'd been reserved for this. My surprise birthday party. Towards the back wall, a large, rectangular table was pushed along the wall, full of chips, salsa, soda, pizza, hot dogs, ice cream, and, of course, cake. It was a four-tier, elaborately decorated fondant birthday cake with my name spelled out in light-up letters at the top layer. Doing a quick glance around, I saw that there were lots of "Happy Birthday" banners glued along the ceiling. Near the main entrance, there was a large poster of me smiling, sitting on the stairs at one of the old-fashioned train stations, my green eyes sparkling, partly from the sun and partly from the camera flash. Above me, the words "Welcome to Clary Fray's 18th Birthday Bash!" were typed up in fancy font.

I saw a crowd of familiar faces looking back at me, one of them being my mother who was walking in my direction.

"Three...two..." I realized she was counting down to something. "One... _Now_!"

"_Happy birthday, Clary!"_ everyone chanted at the top of their lungs, just as I heard a loud pop and saw gold and silver confetti starting to rain down on me. A song with a heavy bass and lots of guitar solos started blasting from the DJ's speakers. Talk about some wonderful timing.

I managed to find my voice and choked out a, "Wow. This is... Thank you everyone for, um, coming!"

Now that I'd finally acknowledged the party, the guests seemed to take this as a "go" signal and dispersed from the mob they were in. People began dancing and heading to the food table.

"So?" Simon asked from behind me. He was now joined by a smiling Maia and Jordan.

"I can't believe this. Thanks, you guys," I simpered, pulling them into a group hug.

"Anything for you, Clary! Although, this wasn't our idea," laughed Maia. After seeing my expression, she briefly looked around and her face lit up. "But, I just found the people in-charge of it all!"

I caught sight of normally straight black hair, now artfully curled up in ringlets, wading through the dancers, belonging to none other than Izzy. She dawned a simple navy dress and light make-up, clearly trying not to upstage me, even though she could in a heartbeat. "Hey, Clary!"

"Izzy!" I said enthusiastically, wrapping her in a quick hug.

"I hope you don't mind the 'surprise.' The unexpected is really fun, you know."

"Well, Simon nearly tipped off the unexpected, so you might want to work on the element of surprise." I gave Simon a teasing look and he shrugged.

"Isabelle, dear, don't take _all_ the credit. The party was my idea originally," Magnus emerged from the crowd with rolled eyes, Alec stoically beside him like a shadow. Turning to me, he gave me a gift bag and placed a hand on my face. "Happy birthday, Clary. The present is for you & that one lucky guy," Magnus winked, running a hand through his spiky, glitter-sprayed hair. I peered into the bag and looked away quickly as soon as I saw the red lingerie.

Alec was looking over my shoulder and flushed deeper than I did. "Really, Magnus?"

"The girl is 18. She should look the part."

"Like a porn star?"

"No. Like you when you're drunk on Friday nights. Come and dance with me, Alexander," Magnus gave him a cat-like grin, effectively shutting Alec up and whisking him to the dance floor.

"I wanna follow that guy's example. Come on, Kyle!" Maia giggled, beckoning Jordan to come with her and chasing after Magnus.

"Well then," coughed Simon. "Oh, hey, look, the blonde one is coming over."

"Yeah, hate to say it, but Jace did a lot planning this party. Maybe even more than I did," Izzy waved her brother over to my dismay.

Even though I looked away and at Simon, who shot me a sympathetic smile, I could still sense Jace's presence and the scent of the cologne he was wearing.

"You can't just not look at me, Clare-bear. After all I did, I deserve a sentence, don't I?" Jace said flippantly.

I took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face him. The strobe lights were reflecting off of Jace's light hair, casting shadows on his tan, beautiful- I mean, decent looking face, which was in a half-smirk. "I'm speaking a sentence and now it's over."

Jace met Izzy's eyes and she imperceptibly nodded. "Simon! Do you want to dance? I think they're playing that one Lady Gaga song that I love." Simon looked briefly stunned, the surprise of Isabelle asking him to dance registering on his face. She saw this as a yes, since he didn't protest, and took his hand, weaving through the maze of bodies.

Now it was just Jace and I, alone in a corner near the back entrance that I came in through.

"So, throwing me a birthday party was a lame attempt at making me like you again?" I asked him, tilting my head to the side.

Jace drew in an aggravated breath. "Yeah, it was. It was also a chance for me to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say except... thanks. The gesture is appreciated, but you are _not_," I scoffed, beginning to turn around. Jace's hand snaked out and gripped my arm, facing me back to him.

"Tell me what happened. The night of the 8th grade end-of-school-year party. I want to know your side." Jace casually leaned back against the cement club wall, but his hold on me was tight.

And then I was there in the moment, remembering everything.

* * *

_I'm outside the Lightwood's house, dressed in jean short-shorts and a tank top covered by a cardigan. I see skateboards and bikes piled onto the front lawn, plus cars that are starting to drive away, belonging to the people whose parents dropped them off. All of Idris Jr. High's 8th graders must be here._

_I hear the sound of Jesse McCartney and the Jonas Brothers ringing out from behind the house and go around the back. Sure enough, I see my classmates going through all the different stages of the social ladder. The "popular" girls are flaunting their bikinis and the guys are drinking Coke and trying to look cool. The nerds are huddled around a campfire, discussing Wizard 101 strategies. The rebels are clearly fighting the urge to not spike the fruit punch. Everyone else, including my other friends, are swimming or eating Doritos._

_And Jace? Well, he's got his own little category, striding around his extravagant backyard and being the badass that even the populars wish they were. I give him a wave and smile but he shrugs it off and looks away coldly.  
_

_"Trouble in paradise, Clary?"_

_Shelly Verlac, Sebastian's cousin, Jace's ex, and resident slut, gives me a triumphant smirk while she wades her feet in the pool._

_"Afraid of the water?" I scoff._

_"Nope. Afraid of getting your heart broken?" Her expression is harsh, but ever so slightly softens._

_"Why would I be afraid of that?"_

_"Because that's what Jace Lightwood does. He toys with you and then dumps you when he's bored. Watch yourself. I've known Jace since 5th grade," Shelly says airily, although there's a bit of hurt in her voice._

_"I've known him since 1st. Thanks for the warning, Shelly, but Jace wouldn't just breakup with me without reason," I reply, although I sound uncertain and I hate it._

_"Don't be so sure." She grabs a towel and wraps it around her waist, even though it's only her feet that are wet._

_About an hour passes and I chat with Isabelle, Aline Penhallow, and a few of my other friends. Jace is clearly avoiding me, walking in the opposite direction when I approach or turning away when I try to meet his eyes. Izzy shrugs when I tell her what's going on. "He's been acting weird since he came home. Probably high school jitters or something. Oh, look, there's Jace now."_

_He's holding a mic that's hooked up to the speakers surrounding the backyard. "Heeeello, Idris 8th graders! I'm Jace Lightwood, but you all already knew that."_

_The guys whoop and holler while the girls clap in approval._

_"So, I'm not really a speech guy, but whenever I do talk, you better listen," Jace says with a playful edge. "I've been with most of you since elementary school, from the days of learning cursive, to learning how to text in class without Ms. Thompson noticing."_

_Laughter ripples through the crowd._

_"I won't see most of you again, considering we'll all be going to different high schools. That's why I want to take the time to tell each of you something." He starts with the people that are in the pool. "Blake! My man! You're a good friend. Easy on the hair spray, though. Think of the environment." Blake flips off Jace, but he's grinning. Jace moves onto the next person, which just so happens to be Shelly. "Ah, Shelly Verlac. We were in quite the high profile relationship for a few months in 7th grade, huh?" Shelly's eyes are narrowed. "Anyways, you're a nice girl. Sorry things went down like they did. And also, tell your cousin, Sebastian, that we're even now. He'll know what I mean."_

_But I don't. What's he talking about? With a sigh, I watch as he calls out every single guest, eventually making his way to those just sitting on towels laid out on the grass: Izzy, myself, and my friend Tessa._

_"Sister, dear. Isabelle Lightwood," Jace gestures at her gallantly._

_Izzy flips her hair over her shoulder and grins. "Watch what you say, bro."_

_"You've always been there for me and help me out whenever we prank Alec. And you don't dress nearly as stripper-like as before, so props."_

_Isabelle harrumphs at that last part, but I can tell she's not taking him seriously._

_Now, it's my turn. I hear people whispering and catch the words "love birds" and "whipped." I brace myself for something teasing and romantic._

_He skips over me and goes straight to Tessa who's now looking at me quizzically. "Maybe he's saving you for last," she whispers to me hastily. Yeah, she's probably right, right?_

_"You've got James & Will wrapped around your finger, Tessie. Choose one. Also, you seem friendly. Hopefully we'll go to the same high school!" Jace smiles at her._

_Okay, now, he's going to give me a shout-out, right?_

_Nope. With a yawn, Jace says into the mic, "Okay, that took a while, but, yeah, I'm done."_

_My classmates glance at me and then back at Jace, trying to figure out why he passed over me._

_"Jace! You forgot a special someone!" Izzy chides loudly._

_He stares back at her, this blank look in his eyes. "Who?"_

_I choke a little._

_"Um, your girlfriend? Clary? Nine months? Together forever?" she scoffs, putting an arm around my shoulder._

_Jace's eyes are distant and he's smirking directly at me. His expression screams, "You're pathetic." It's the look he gives Sebastian. "Alright, Clary. What do you want me to say?"_

_Someone tosses me a microphone and I just barely catch it. I'm too busy staring at him, trying to decipher whatever's going on in his head. "What... What's this about, Jace?"_

_The 8th graders have gone silent, just watching us._

_"Okay, I didn't want to say it _this way_, but we're done," Jace states, not even blinking. Perfectly calm. Is this the part where he says, "Gotcha"?_

_"What?" I mumble stupidly._

_"I never cared about you. Nine months together was eight months too long. I don't know why I kept you and your bland, flat-chested self around. It was just an act, Clary." He raises an eyebrow. "You should've seen it coming anyways. This is long overdue."_

_I'm speechless. Frozen. One moment, I'm seeing everything with too much clarity- Shelly's slightly arched eyebrow, Jace's stony, know-it-all expression- that it hurts, and the next, everything is blurred with tears beginning to rim my eyes._

_"Why?" I quietly whimper into the mic. "Why now?"_

_"So that everyone knows you were nothing to me, of course. All those 'I love you's' and 'You're beautiful's' were fake. Who knew theater camp paid off?" Jace replies icily._

_The silence is broken by Jessamine, a stuck-up, all-boobs-no-heart popular girl, and her cackling laughter. "It's about time that you realize what your standards are! You deserve more than a weird freak, Jace."_

_The laughter and pointing steadily rises until the whole neighborhood can probably hear it. I can't take this anymore. Everything hurts._

_I unsteadily get to my feet, wobbling as I stand, and muster enough energy to get the hell out of there. While running across their driveway and to the sidewalk, I vaguely hear Isabelle mouthing off to Jessamine._

_"You're still below his standards, Jessa. No one dates a bitchy slut. At least Clary's got dignity, unlike you," Izzy snaps at her._

_"Dignity? She's bawling like a baby!" someone giggles. It sounds like Shelly._

_Isabelle catches up to me just before I walk across the street and to my own house, grabbing me and pulling me into a tight hug. "Clary? He's an ass. Jace is the ass of all asses. I don't know why he did it. But I'll make him pay. You hear me?"_

_I'm crying a river by now. My heart weighs more than a bus, dragging my chest down and making it hard to heave in a breath between sobs. Why? He could've said it nicer. He's lying. He cares about me. I know._

_But, on the inside, I can tell he speaks the truth. He spoke with such conviction as he broke my heart into pieces._

_Isabelle helps me wipe my tears with her shirt and reduces the puffy redness of my eyes with some liquid concealer, enough to make it look like I got stung by a bee and shed a few tears._

_When I arrive home, everything's in boxes, my mother in the midst of all of them. "Clary, I got a _fantastic_ job offer. I can't refuse. It's in New York and we leave tomorrow in the afternoon! The company has taken care of the moving vans and everything! I know it's so sudden and you'll miss L.A., but-"_

_"It's wonderful, mom. I can't wait to leave. I'll go pack now!" I interrupt her with a genuine smile on my face._

_A chance to ditch all of this shit? The heartbreak and the heart_breaker_? Yes, please._

* * *

There. Now it was out in the open. I absentmindedly touched my face to find that it was slightly damp. Great. I was crying on my birthday. And to the one guy who I swore would never see my tears.

"Clary," Jace murmured, taking a strand of my hair and winding it around his index finger.

"So, there it is. Happy now?" I breathed.

"The opposite actually. I was going to explain everything to you the next day, but you moved. Let me tell you now."

"No," I said, barely audible. I repeated myself, except louder and more demanding. "No."

"Clary-"

"You broke me, you know. I don't give a damn if it was middle school and I was stupid for actually liking you, but I just want you to know that you ripped my heart out," I spat. "And now you're back, here in New York to ruin my life. Why can't you find some other girl to destroy?"

Jace's blazing eyes blinked. "Because there's only you." He handed me a present. "Happy birthday," he whispered before going out the back entrance.

Leaving me alone in the corner, I sat down on the tiled club floor and opened the gift. Although I took special care in removing the pretty wrapping paper, I opened the cardboard box underneath roughly. My breath caught.

It was a glass merry-go-round.

* * *

**I'm proud of this chapter. I think we got some kind of development happening. :D Also, you know Clary's side of the 8th grade party! Progress! Review please. :3  
**


	10. Another Secret

**Thanks for the reviews! Didn't make it to 150, but we got pretty dang close! Hurray! :D  
Time to look into Jace's head now.  
**

**Read and review, like always. :)  
**

* * *

**Another Secret  
**

* * *

_-Jace-_

A few minutes after I left Pandemonium, I heard the clamor of the heavy, metal back doors swing open and slam shut, followed by light footsteps.

"Jace?" a female's voice echoed through the alleyway.

It was Clary. I never pegged her as the type to follow someone after a dramatic exit, not that I was complaining.

I saw her shadow run out and into the street I was on, quickly glancing around for any sign of me. Faded light from the lampposts weren't doing her any favors. The subtle jerk of her head meant that she noticed me sitting on a bench near the bus stop.

"Jace," Clary breathed, catching up to me. I nodded and gave her a half-wave. She tentatively sat down on the space beside me. After a beat of silence, she said, "You remembered. The glass carousel. Your gift."

"'Course I remembered. You looked at it like it was Heaven on Earth during that one time we went to the mall. And I told you I'd get it for you, didn't I?" I replied softly.

"Thank you. It's still as beautiful as before. I'll, um, make sure it doesn't break or anything," Clary fidgeted with her hands. I felt her shiver and I had a hunch it wasn't from the cold.

I did the only thing I could to fill in the awkward silence. Explain.

* * *

_I'm crossing the school campus to reach Sebastian and his group of brain-dead followers. What does he want now?_

_"Ah, Lightwood," he greets me._

_"Actually, my name is Jace. Too hard for you to say?" I smirk._

_"Okay, I'll cut to the chase. Shelly Verlac's my cousin," Sebastian deadpans._

_"I could tell by the last name and similar shitty personalities. Must run in the family, huh?" His beady black eyes flicker for a moment. Looks like I've struck a nerve._

_"You dated her, right, Jace? You went out with her a few months back?"_

_"Sadly."_

_"See, here's the thing. I had a sister. She died. I had a mom. She ditched me. I have a dad. He's a good-for-nothing drunk bastard. Shelly is the closest thing to family that I've got. Do you know what you did to her?" Sebastian asks me, a sick smile on his face. He answers for me. "You stood her up four times and then dumped her through a text. I think it said, 'Not working out. Breaking up with u. C u at school tmrw,' or something like that. She called me up, sobbing about her broken heart."_

_This is getting uncomfortable. I shift my eyes around and respond with a simple, "Okay."_

_"'Okay?' That's all you have to say? Well, the thing is, I'm not _okay_ with that. I couldn't speak to you around the time of the incident due to the fact that I was in juvy last year. I'm not anymore, though, and I excel at revenge." Sebastian pounds his fist into his palm.  
_

_"You want to fight? Really? Alright, whatever floats your boat. Pick your time and your place," I muse, crossing my arms. Despite the fact that he's a couple years older and a former jail prisoner apparently, I'm not intimidated at all by him.  
_

_Sebastian pauses for a minute and the creepy pedophile smile is back. "Wait, that's not going to effect you at all, is it? You get in fights all the time, so it won't make a difference. But what about_ Clary? _Probably isn't used to _physical contact _at all, right? I can change that. I've got a new bed in my basement where no one will hear her scream. That sounds good."_

_I see red. Is he really threatening to rape Clary? Now, _that _is a demented person right there._

_"I strongly suggest evaluating the state of your mental health, Verlac."_

_"And I strongly suggest that you do what I say or someone else will be going all the way with Fray. Don't worry, she'll enjoy it eventually. I'll make her," Sebastian grins sweetly. "Did I even tell you why I went to jail? Case of sexual abuse against me. Some girl I was 'acquainted with' squealed. But that won't happen again since I'll make sure Clary shuts her mouth."_

_"Don't touch her," I hiss._

_"Then break-up with her in the cruelest, most humiliating way possible. Tell her she's nothing to you. Your relationship is a lie."_

_"What?"_

_"I want Clary to feel the pain that Shelly did. And you can feel what I felt, just by watching your girl crumble into tears. If you tell Clary beforehand, or if you're not convincing enough, well, my bed is lonely, Lightwood."_

_"Guess what, Sebastian- I'm not going to do it. See, I don't take orders from dicks. And I think I love Clary, okay? What I felt for Shelly was nonexistent and what she felt for me was probably a chance to boost her popularity. Dumping her was nothing. You of all people, Mr. Manwhore, should know how it feels to be in pointless relationships. But Clary? I won't crush her like that. Although, I doubt you even know what love is," I reply defiantly, internally stunned at the realization that I _do_ love Clary._

_"Suit yourself. Just don't expect Clary home by midnight," he winks._

_I turn away, my thoughts racing a mile per minute. He never said I couldn't tell her _afterward_. I'll do what he wants and just talk to Clary later. Explain that our break-up was fake. __That Sebastian threatened her._ I'll tell everyone at the party, too, so that rumors can't spread. She'll have to forgive me then. Hopefully.

_"And Jace?" Sebastian calls after me, but I don't stop walking. "I do know what love is. _To love is to destroy and to be the one loved is to be the one destroyed._"_

-The Day After the Party-

_Clary's house is deathly quiet. And empty. The little trinkets that Mrs. Fray puts in their front yard, like the windmill, frog statues, and flags, are gone. Weird. She wasn't at school today for some reason, so I'm apologizing to her now._

_Yesterday was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Watching Clary run out of the party, crying, was torture. I wanted to just hold her tight and tell her I didn't mean it over & over again. Shelly looked like she won the lottery._

_Once a bitch, always a bitch._

_I ring the doorbell and wait patiently for about two seconds before aggressively pressing the button repeatedly. No one's coming. What's going on?_

_I realize I'm stepping on a piece of card-stock that has words- a notice -typed on it. _

_To whom it may concern,_

The Fray family, previous owners of this property, have moved.  
We apologize for the short notice to any of our friends. We never got to say our proper goodbyes!  
We've moved to New York due to a job opportunity.  
Sorry for the inconvenience.

_- Jocelyn & Clarissa Fray_

_...What? No. Clary can't have moved. It's barely been 24 hours and if she did, then... God, she probably thinks I'm a soulless dick. That might be the last thing she _ever_ thinks of me. I feel a tear trickle down my cheek and swat away at it._

_ The girl I love is gone. And she probably doesn't even love me back at all._

* * *

Clary and I sat on the bench in quietness after I stopped talking. The chilly 11 p.m. air caused our breath to turn into puffs of white clouds.**  
**

"So that's why you did what you did. You thought Sebastian was going to hurt me, and you did what he asked," she broke the silence.

"Yeah. I was going to tell you I didn't mean anything I said, but you were across the country. Look, I know it's not a very good reason, but I don't react well when an asshat threatens to rape my girlfriend," I shrugged with a wry smile.

"You loved me?" Clary asked abruptly.

"I do."

"Oh."

More tension-filled silence.

"Do you still..." I began.

"No, Jace, I- I don't. Not anymore. Even if you didn't mean to hurt me, you did, okay? I cried over you. I lost sleep over you. I ripped pillows and attempted to punch walls over you. Things can't just go back to the way they were before. I don't think they ever could," she murmured, shaking her head.

"I get it. It's okay," I said, even though that was a monumental lie. Despite my calm demeanor, anger swelled inside me. I never stopped loving her for four years and she wouldn't even give me a chance.

"Anyways, thanks for telling me. And I'm sorry I wouldn't listen before. Could we... Could we just not talk about that party anymore? It's behind me now. I know the truth. I want to forget it," Clary said, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.

"Sure."

At that moment, I mentally built up a wall to protect myself from her. From now on, I'd be 'normal Jace' like she wanted. I wouldn't be the guy who still had feelings for her after all these years. Or at least, she wouldn't notice anymore. It was a barrier between us. Clary didn't like me, and I wasn't going to pressure her with whatever I felt.

"We should get back to your party. The second reason I came was to make sure Alec and Magnus didn't get too crazy on the dance floor. Plus, you've got cake," I joked with her.

"What happened to the Jace who refused to eat anything that would effect his body?" Clary laughed.

"Please, woman. My body," I gestured to my abs, "can survive a few slices of cake." She rolled her eyes but smiled anyways. I helped her up from the bench and we walked back to Pandemonium, teasing each other the whole way.

Yep. I had a new secret now. I still loved Clary and I always would.


	11. Avoiding a Cliche

**I am kind of on a roll with the chapters. It's scaring even me. Never expect this again, lol.**

**I've got a cute little chapter for you. At least, I think it's cute. And I haven't forgotten about Simon and one of the pairings I ship, Simabelle (I think that's what they call it). You'll see what I mean. ;D**

**Review! We actually made it to 150! Can we try for 10-20 more? xxx  
**

* * *

**Avoiding a Cliche  
**

* * *

_-Simon-_

If there was anything a person needed to know about me, it would be that I wasn't exactly Mr. Popularity.

Don't get me wrong, I was content with being a so-called nerd. I had unbeatable high scores, a Jedi Master rank on several Star Wars forums, and a good sense of judgement from being picked on my entire life.

So, that was why it was socially impossible for the beautiful Isabelle Lightwood to be eating cake with me at the Pandemonium night club and talking to me. And not just talking, dare I say it, _flirting _with me. Laughing at my lame jokes and having civilized conversation with an Alicante Prep school chess champion.

"You did _what?_" she gaped at me, shoveling some more cake into her mouth.

"Technically, it was my neighbor, Eric's, idea to have a Victoria Secret fashion show using the old people from the local nursing home. Word to the wise? Don't wear bikinis if even your elbow skin is sagging," I shrugged, drinking my Dr. Pepper.

"I think I just visualized that."

"I'm sorry if I scarred you for life or anything."

We both laughed and Isabelle even _snorted_. Pretty girls did not snort. Clary never did anyways. "So, Simon, thanks for helping us out with the surprise party. We wouldn't have been able to pull this off without you, even if you almost ruined it," Isabelle smiled.

"I'd do anything for Clary. It was fun," I replied. Her expression showed sadness, and maybe jealousy, for a split second that I almost thought I imagined it. "Is everything alright, Izzy?"

"So, do you _like _Clary then? Dream about her? Fantasize about her? Jizz your pants around her?" Isabelle asked bluntly. Wow. She was bold.

"Wait- What? No!" I choked out, pushing my glasses back up on my nose. "Well, I used to like her, but I was friend-zoned really badly. I kind of gave up on her last year. Besides, she's going to fall in love with Jace. Just watch her."

Isabelle's shoulders slightly relaxed and sent a wave of mixed signals to me. Did this girl, with her milky brown eyes and sleek dark hair, like me? No, she couldn't. Isabelle was popular already and she was new to school.

"Oh. Okay," she nodded. "I just thought that you helped out with the party to get closer to her or something."

"Well, I kind of did it to get closer to you," I admitted sheepishly. Lame pick-up line, I know, but Isabelle gave me one of those shy smiles and it was completely worth it.

"That's sweet. Guys don't usually crush on me. It's more like their libidos are instead. I've been told I'm too intimidating. Well, it's their problem, y'know? If a boy can't handle me and my black leather boots, then they don't deserve me!" she held her chin up, a smug grin on her face.

"Well, do I deserve you?" I thought aloud, immediately flushing afterward. Instead of laughing like any other girl would probably do, she narrowed her eyes directly at me and the corners of her mouth turned up.

"I'm still deciding."

* * *

Monday Morning

* * *

_-Clary-_

Jace Lightwood still loved me. Impossible. He could have any other girl in the world, and he was hung up on _me_? It filled my heart with melancholy. On one hand, it was flattering and kind of overwhelming. I remembered when I felt the same exact way about him in L.A., always daydreaming about him sweeping me off my feet and riding away on a horse. On the other hand, it hurt. I didn't like him anymore. I don't think I did anyways. I mean, Jace _crushed _me. I know it was just because Sebastian Verlac- now a confirmed pedophile in my book -threatened to rape me, but still. The damage was done. There was always other word choice he could've used. Maybe even hiding a subliminal message in there to tell me he was kidding! Anything. Jace was a damn good actor apparently. He hurt me enough to make me lose my love for him.

"_Miss Fray,_" snapped my art teacher, Mrs. Donovan, awakening me from my thoughts. The people who started the stereotype that art teachers were nice, kind, and understanding were out of their minds. Mrs. Donovan was strict and had this "color inside the lines or I'll kill your first born child" personality.

"Yeah, Mrs. Donovan?" I replied sweetly. She smirked and continued with whatever she was talking about. Bitch.

Meanwhile, I could feel Jace's eyes burning into the back of my head. Why did he have to sit behind me? I pretended not to notice, when actually, it was the only think I could focus on.

"Since we are nearly finished with our realistic drawing unit, your final will be just that. I will partner you up and all you'll have to do is sketch the other person doing _something._ That's the difficult part. I want you to capture the movement of your partner, but also keep the stillness of it," the art teacher said.

"That makes no sense," scoffed Jace. Everyone looked at him, including Mrs. Donovan.

"It makes perfect sense! Your ability to comprehend must be at a low today, Jace," she chastised him. "Anyways, make sure the sketch looks like your partner. This is _realistic _drawing after all. Remember your guidelines and proportions. Any questions? No? Okay. Your partner is the person who sits behind you."

Immediately, the art room erupted in chatter, my classmates turning around in their desks to face their partner. I think I groaned the loudest. Jace's eyebrow arched at me when he heard it.

"Hey, at least you know me. Would you rather have to stare at and draw a complete stranger?" he grinned.

"Well, at least with a stranger, there's silence. I have a feeling you'll be criticizing me this whole assignment. I can hear it now. 'No, Clary, I'm much more gorgeous than how you drew me. My abs are much larger!'" I mocked him with a playful smile.

"You won't be drawing my abs unless you plan to sketch me shirtless. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ugh. I rolled my eyes. "And, no, I won't criticize you. You're the best artist I know and I'm sure you'll do me justice."

"Was that a compliment?" I feigned complete shock.

"Enjoy it, Clary. There aren't much more of them," Jace teased.

Throughout our whole conversation, he didn't acknowledge yesterday night _once._ Maybe he was moving on, too. This assignment just might be bearable.

"Let's just try to avoid a common cliche though." I gave him a puzzled look. "You won't believe how many stories I've read where two lab partners, who either hate each other or are complete strangers, fall in love," he grinned with an edge of mischievousness in voice.


	12. Author's Note! :D

**~ Author's Note ~**

Okay. So. Hey. :D

Just thought I'd tell you wonderful people that are reading this that I'm going on vacation in a day! I might be gone for a week, I really don't know. Therefore, I probably won't update this story. If I did, you would get rushed, crappy quality or a really short chapter. I don't wanna do any of those things, so yeah. I just won't update until I'm back. xD

Also, thank you for the reviews, you guys! I don't do multi-chapters, like I said before, but you're making this worthwhile. I appreciate every single one (I read them all and check back constantly because I'm conceited like that), including the flames!

That last part was lie, lol.

But, seriously, just... gracias. I'm making a big deal out of this just because I've been told I'm a sucky writer and I don't really get praise in general for anything. Sigh.

Also-also, I've been feeling sad lately. I don't know, I'm starting to think this story isn't any good. It could be so much better & I don't know how to fix it. I'm reading all these other fantastic MI stories & feel really pathetic compared to those. Be honest with me. Do you truly enjoy reading this, guys?

So, yeah, bye for now. :)


	13. Five Roses

**I'm sitting in the lobby of Adventureland (that's where I went for vacation), waiting for the adventure to start btw, and I'm reading your reviews and I want to cry tears of happiness but I won't because I really don't want people to think I'm a freaky girl who blubbers while staring at her iPhone.**

**Your reviews. Those things restored some faith and determination in me. I will try not to disappoint you and take your suggestions into mind! Really. Thank you so much for encouraging me and getting me to 200 reviews which was a non-existent goal for me last month. xD  
**

**NOW. Enough with my thank you's that you all deserve, and onto the story! This one's kind of fluffy. No shame, lol. Review, as always!  
**

* * *

**Five Roses**

* * *

The doorbell's startling ring echoed throughout my empty house, causing me to drop both my pencil and sketch pad. Mom was away for work, so it was just me for the weekend. Anyways, I wasn't jumpy because someone was at my door. It was more like _who _was at my door: Jace Lightwood.

Rarely anyone came over except for Maia, on special occasions, and Simon, who let himself in and ate my food. I was too embarrassed to invite other people over since "home sweet home" was an old, brick, two-story apartment building that mom had gotten cheap with help from a friend, Luke Garroway. Sure, we had it refurnished on the inside with granite counters, stainless steal appliances, and HD cable, but all the paint jobs in the world couldn't hide rusty broken pipes or permanent mold stains. Compared to the Lightwood's, I was homeless.

I took a deep breath, tried to look nonchalant, even irritable maybe, and opened the forest green door. "Hey."

Jace, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, stood on the top steps, hands in his pockets and a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was coming over so we could get the whole art project thing over with. Drawing Jace would be easy. As much as I hated to admit it, I'd catch myself sneaking peeks at him, imagining sketching out the contour of his face. The high cheekbones, long, dark lashes, tousled curls of his hair-

_"Snap out of it, Clary. You don't like him. The spark is gone. Your little middle school crush is swept under the rug,"_ I mentally scolded myself.

"So, are you going to invite me in, or..." Jace chuckled, bringing me back from my ludicrous thoughts.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, come in," I shook my head, widening the door.

"Nice neighbor you got there, by the way. She foresaw my future and told me I'd die soon," he pointed out while entering.

My neighborhood was a sketchy area. I lived next door to Madame Dorothea, _Seeress and Prophetess_, who'd occasionally wake me up from my sleep with large explosions and chanting. "Yeah," I replied. "She does that."

* * *

Jace gave the living room a brief glance-over, the corners of his mouth quirking up when he saw the sketch I was working on before he came. It was a drawing of a curly-haired little girl, probably four years old, wearing a floppy sunhat and laughing, her hands clapped together. I'd seen her while walking past the community pool earlier, sitting on the edge of the chlorinated water and giggling at the sight of her dad diving into it.

"She's cute. And the drawing is really good. It only makes my expectations for you higher," Jace mused, observing the picture.

"No pressure," I muttered under my breath. "So. I've got to draw you doing some kind of action if I want to get an A+ on this. Do something."

"That's not vague at all."

"Well, I'm not going to tell you what to do! It would make everything too staged and fake. It's got to be real," I sighed, exasperated.

"Let's go out then. We're bound to do _something_ if we walk around long enough," Jace suggested.

"Are you asking me out?" I looked at him skeptically, attempting, and failing, at hiding a blush.

"Only if you think I am," he said slyly, flashing me a cheeky grin. I rolled my eyes, but grabbed a sweater and my sketch pad.

"Lead the way," I replied, defeated, turning off the house lights and opening the door.

* * *

We strolled around downtown a while, not saying much. Surprisingly, the silence wasn't awkward at all. It felt nice, being able to enjoy New York in comfortable peace. So far, we hadn't run into any sketch-worthy action unless you counted the time where I tripped over a sidewalk crack. About an hour into our walk, we found ourselves at one of the local parks, sitting on a bench in front of a pond that was teeming with ducks.

"It's nearly winter and the ducks are still here. I guess being fluffy and yellow has its advantages," I broke the silence.

"Yeah, like having the ability to disguise themselves as cute creatures, when they're actually cannibalistic aquatic pieces of shit," Jace snapped, eying one of the ducks. I'd forgotten how much Jace hated the animal. It was almost hilarious. No, wait, it _was._ The biggest duck, probably the mother of all the ducklings, quacked loudly at him. He gestured at it, giving me a look that said, "See?"

"I remember in California when we'd go to the park and wave bread in the ducks' faces before running off. I wonder if word got around to the other side of the country that we're haters," I laughed.

"I'm perfectly fine with being public enemy #1. You haven't forgotten that those things almost bit off your finger in 7th grade, have you? Under their bills are flesh-seeking teeth."

"God, that was terrible. I was flipping out about rabies and infections, even though it only bled a little. And then you went and tried to kick it but it flew off before you could."

"Of course I tried to kick that son of a bitch! It could've given you duck-itis or something and it would've been my fault for not protecting you like I should've," Jace sighed, anger prominent in his expression.

"Like you should've?" I repeated.

He looked at me with those golden eyes of his, making it impossible to glance away. "I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I look out for you like Alec does with Izzy and I. If you got hurt, I'd blame myself. It's kind of like my job to protect you."

It was phrases like that that reminded me of the old Jace I dated. How did a person respond to something like that? With a cough, I said, "Well, you can be off-duty if you want. I can protect myself."

"I know you can."

I held his gaze for a moment longer before we both looked away.

* * *

We headed deeper into the heart of NYC, trying to ignore our conversation from earlier. I chewed my gum, pretending to be interested in the bustle of New Yorkers in a hurry.

We were entering a shopping strip, loaded with boutiques and vendors, when Jace suddenly stopped walking and changed directions, heading towards an old man standing near a cart of blooming flowers. I followed him and, immediately, the strong scent of lilies and sunflowers slapped me in the face, causing me to gag a little.

"Hello, pretty lady. Interested in buying anything?" the man greeted me, gesturing to the flora.

"No, I'm just looking. They're really beautiful by the way," I replied politely, slightly leaning down to catch a whiff of a red rose. "This rose smells amazing."

"Ah, they are. They convey a certain message loud and clear. Pretty things," pointed out the vendor.

Behind me, Jace said, "My mom used to grow roses when I was little."

"Maryse? Really? I never saw her as a gardener. She's so serious," I widened my eyes in surprise.

"No, I mean my birth mother," he replied, several volumes quieter. I knew Jace was adopted and any passerby could tell, usually from his blonde hair in contrast to the darkness of the Lightwood's, but he never spoke of it. All I knew is that he became Alec and Izzy's brother sometime before kindergarten. Jace cleared his throat and forced a smile. "Anyways, roses are my favorite. I'll buy some for you."

He gave the old man $15 and handed me five of them. I thanked him with a shy smile and crushed their petals to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent. I felt a quick flicker of light and looked up to see Jace and his phone, taking a picture of me.

"I think I know what I'm going to draw," Jace grinned, looking down at the screen. Noticing my look, he said, "Hey, smelling flowers is an action!"

"Yeah, well, now I need to draw you doing something, so let's keep walking," I said, lightly running my fingertips over the roses.

"One sec, I gotta go to the bathroom." I nodded and he ran off to one of the stores.

I glanced back at the old man who had a toothless grin plastered on his wrinkled face. "Your boyfriend is a lucky man."

"What? Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," I shook my head, my face burning.

"The flowers say otherwise. Did you hear me say that they convey a certain message? Roses alone are a symbol of love, but the amount counts as well. Look at the chart here," he said, pointing to a poster on the side of his cart.

_One rose - I like you.  
__Two roses - You're adorable.  
Three roses - You mean a lot to me.  
Four roses - I love you.  
Five roses - All of the above._

Jace got me five roses. 'All of the above.' I felt blood surge to my head and my heart hammer through my chest. Maybe it was a coincidence. He couldn't feel _that _strongly for me, could he? I could understand a crush or some leftover feelings, but _love? _The old man had that knowing look on his face which shifted to a more secretive glimmer of the eyes when I felt Jace coming up behind me.

"Ready to go?" he asked, imperceptibly glimpsing at the space between me and the poster.

"Uh, yeah." I gave one last look at the flower vendor, but he was busy smelling the group of roses and full-heartedly accepting their romantic meanings; something I couldn't do.

* * *

It was getting dark. Amazingly, we'd spent enough hours walking around New York, window-shopping, eating corn-dogs, and buying flowers, that it was nearly nine.

Crickets were chirping and street lamps were eerily illuminating the alleys we passed by. This was another reason I never invited others over- my neighborhood was creepy at night. Simon always left just before sundown and Maia would hurry out early in the afternoon. They both knew the dangers of my street during the dark.

"Hey! Little girl! Aren't you a sweet thing? Come on over here!" a loud voice dripping in sleaziness caused Jace and I to stop. "But leave your bodyguard. How about a 1-on-1 chat?"

I immediately thought of Sebastian for some reason, even though he was way more... classier than the shadow that loomed near a dumpster. Jace was still beside me, holding onto my arm. "Keep walking," he ushered me.

We were able to go a few more steps before the figure appeared in front of us. He was heavy built, tattoos winding around his bulging muscles. I could faintly see something shiny, a knife, in his pocket. "Hey. I thought I told you to stop."

"Back off. We're not interested," Jace replied coolly, now in front of me.

"Aw, c'mon, man. I just want to get a look at her!" the guy chuckled.

"Step closer and you'll regret it. You'll have more bruises than ink stains," Jace drawled.

"And what if I do this?"

The man dodged around Jace and gripped my arm, pulling me to him and drawing his knife. We were surrounded by complexes full of people who I knew were watching, but wouldn't come outside to help in fear of their own lives.

"Big mistake, buddy."

In a flash, Jace was on the thug, throwing a high number of power punches on him and landing every single one. Of course, the guy let go of me and I scrambled away to the sidewalk. I rummaged through my purse, looking for my phone to call the police, but a brief howl and loud thud made me look back. I realized the police wouldn't have to do anything.

The man was limp in the middle of road, his face a clash of purple and red. Jace loomed above him, his arm pulled back and his hand in a fist, ready to strike. There was this determination and fierceness etched all over his face.

I knew what I was going to sketch for art.

His stance was perfect, prepared and poised to attack at any moment. For appropriateness reasons, I'd omit the bloody guy on the ground, but Jace's expression and the way the street lamps cast shadows on the left side of his head was... beautiful. In a raw way. Hastily, I took a picture with my phone to savor the moment, just as the blood drained from Jace's face and he relaxed his arm. "Asshole."

He ambled up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright, Clary?"

"Yeah. Just kind of... weirded out. I've lived here for a couple years and no one's ever pulled anything on me. Thanks. A lot. You saved my life, Jace."

"I told you it was my job to protect you, didn't I?" He noticed one of the roses on the ground below me and knelt down to pick it up. "Go home. I'll make sure no one follows you or anything."

I took the delicate stem in my hands and nodded, giving him one last rueful glance before running up the stairs and closing the door behind me.


	14. Chances

******Another chapter! Kind of short, I know. Sorry about that! The next one will be longer. I hope.**

******Can you believe it's been a month since I started this? Like, I see the review amount and get this weird creepy smile. Only you guys bring it out in me. xD**

******P.S. - The rose thing is based on a true story that happened to one of my friends. ;)**

* * *

**Chances**

* * *

_-Isabelle-_

All of my brothers were on relationship cloud nine.

Alec had Magnus, and it would probably be like that for a long time. They'd endured their own hardships, from dealing with Magnus's crazy ex, Camille, in Los Angeles, to Alec's insecurity and acceptance of being gay. But, in the end, they overcame all obstacles and Magnus came along with us to New York. As for Jace, he was in the midst of his own trials. Clary was still hurting from the incident and was obviously torn between hating and loving him, whether she'd admit it or not. My brother had his work cut out for him, trying to regain her trust. So far, he was doing a pretty good job, judging from the lovestruck smiles that were plastered on his face every night he came home. Max, on the other hand, told me all about this pretty girl in his 4th grade class and how she'd pick up his pencils every time he dropped them. Even my little brother had a love life.

And then there was me. What the hell was _I _supposed to be? I'd helped all of them with their relationship drama, but I couldn't have one of my own? Karma was a bitch.

My phone's ringing interrupted my internal dilemma. "This is Isabelle."

"Hey, Iz. It's Simon."

Oh, Simon. Now, _he _was the cause for most of my turmoil. I did like him, trust me. He was funny, sincere, and not afraid to be himself. And, not to toot my own horn or whatever, but I could tell he liked me back, based on the puddles of drool that happened to drip from his mouth when I'd walk by. That was why I just wasn't sure. I'd never been committed to anything, let alone a boyfriend. If I fell for him, he could break my heart. Imagine that! And if he fell for me- you could put a check mark by that- I'd break his. Nothing could ever work out.

God, I sounded a lot like Clary and her problems.

"Hi."

"Okay, so, listen. I'm not as bold as you are or confident or- or... I'm stammering already. Great. This is not going as planned-"

"Uh, you okay there, Simon?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to blurt it out. Do you... want to go see a movie with me on Friday?"

"..."

"Silence. Shit, that's not good. I'm coming on too strong, aren't I? I just thought since we'd been hanging out already that it wouldn't matter if I asked you out on a date. You know what? I'm going to hang up now."

"No, Simon, wait. Sorry, I just wasn't sure what to say," I tried to sound unamused. It was cute to hear Simon get nervous.

"I rendered you speechless? I must be awesome!"

"Not if you say things like 'rendered you speechless.' Anyways, I don't know. I'll have to call you back on that one, 'kay?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. No pressure. Bye."

_Click. _I dramatically fell onto my bed, releasing my phone and letting it bounce on my pillow. Everything was so confusing, and I was _never_ confused. The only thing that comforted me, and I probably sounded like a bitch for saying this, was that Jace had worse problems than I did.

* * *

_-Jace-_

If my sister thought she had problems with Clary's best friend, Simon, she was wrong. Mine were worse.

I'd blown it, hadn't I? I promised myself not to let my feelings for Clary show, and, bam. I did just that. The symbolic roses were an overkill, but I couldn't help it. She'd seemed so frustrated with the stupid art assignment and I figured roses- ones that happened to subtly confess my love for her- would relax her a little. Clary had seemed flustered at first, but once she smelled those amazing flowers, she pretended that she never noticed their meaning. I could live with that. Ignorance is bliss or something.

As a bonus, I found out what I was going to draw her doing for art, killing two birds with one stone. I'd managed to snap a picture of Clary sniffing the roses, the sunlight on her fiery hair perfect, and her expression at ease. It would probably be easier to sketch, too, since half her face was hidden by the flowers and I wouldn't have to bother with drawing her mouth or most of her nose. Score one for me.

I rolled around my bed, crumpling my blankets in the process, trying to find a somewhat comfortable sleeping position. Now and then, I'd glance at the glowing numbers of my clock which seemed to move up an hour every second I stared at it.

Even with the world's fluffiest pillow, I couldn't stop thinking about a certain little redhead who'd proceeded to screw my life over in a couple months.

Was I crazy if I said that I enjoyed it?

* * *

_-Clary-_

I was torn up inside.

Liking Jace was just... _wrong,_ and went against every single ideal that I'd implemented on myself. One of my biggest rules was to never crawl back to anyone who hurt you, intentional or not. I was supposed to be strong and not some weak-willed girl that was stupid enough to return to her past.

Keyword: supposed.

I had this no-shit policy, just like my mother, and if I broke it, then what did that make me? Just another play thing to be toyed with? I knew that Jace wasn't that much of an ass to repeat history- in fact, he'd been really sweet lately- but he could still very well hurt me if we got together. I don't think I could deal with another broken heart by the same guy.

"You awake? Need advice," I texted Maia. To hell with the fact that it was two in the morning. She was a night person, especially on full moons for some reason. Jordan and I used to tease her about secretly being a werewolf.

Immediately, my phone "pinged" in response. "'Course I'm awake. Look out the window. There's a white ball of happiness in the sky...that didn't sound right. Anyway, what kind of advice?"

"Something about making decisions. And nothing like follow your heart or believe or dream. No Disney crap."

"Flip a coin. When it's up in the air, you'll suddenly know which side you want it to land on- as in, which choice you decide on," Maia replied.

"That actually makes sense. Thanks, Maia."

"Don't act too surprised. Besides, I got it off of Facebook. Oooh, let me guess. This is about Jace." She added a winky face at the end.

"...Yeah."

"Relationship decisions suck. When it came down to Jordan and Simon freshman year- remember that?- I was a wreck. I didn't want to go back to Jordan since he'd screwed up before, but in the end, after he'd explained himself, it all worked out, girl. Clearly."

"Story of my life," I typed back. I meant it, too. "I'll do that coin thing just for the heck of it. Thanks, night. xoxo."

Too lazy to turn on a light, I clumsily rummaged through my drawers for spare change. I just barely snagged a dust-covered quarter from the deepest corners of my desk.

"Heads, I give Jace a chance. Tails, I move on."

I tossed the coin into the air, and it glinted in the moonlight that was streaming in through my window. As it did flips in the air, one word came to mind; a word that I was hoping would be the outcome.

Heads.


	15. The Stars Align

**Still not as lengthy, but I think you'll like this, guys. It's what you've been waiting for anyways. xD**

**280 reviews? Maybe? Possibly? :3**

* * *

**The Stars Align**

* * *

_-Clary-_

"So, where's this sexy sketch of myself? I hope you didn't double-over, swooning, while drawing me. I have that effect on people," Jace pretended to flip an imaginary strand of hair and sipped from his styrofoam cup.

We were at the local Starbucks, the day before our project was due, and decided to show each other our drawings.

"Do you know how hard it is to draw you? Finding a piece of paper to fit your big-ass ego is tough," I retorted while leaning down to reach my backpack. My hand tossed and turned books, assignments, and a jacket before finding the sketch of Jace. "Ta-dah."

I slid the large piece of paper, off-white and textured to support the graphite pencils I used, across the table. I thought I did an A-worthy job. Copying the picture I'd taken of Jace during his little fight last week, the picture was pretty accurate. He was in this rigid stance of his; the kind that said, "One step closer and I'll decapitate you." Jace's expression, with golden eyes narrowed in concentration and mouth in a solid line, was fierce to say the least, his fist drawn back, ready to deliver the final blow. I made sure to get in the proper shading and highlighting caused by the ominous glow of the street lamps.

Jace was silent for a moment, his eyes darting across the page, before a dazzling smile appeared on his face. "Damn. Who would've guessed that the tiny 2nd grader who took joy in scribbling Polly Pocket coloring pages could make this."

"So, you like it?" I asked, ruefully.

"Of course. Makes me look extremely badass." Jace flashed me a thumbs-up.

"Okay, your turn, Mr. Badass," I mocked his voice and held my hand out expectantly.

He handed me his drawing, after digging around in his bag for it, and I felt my breath catch the moment I saw it.

It was me, no doubt about it. Jace has drawn in each untamable curl and freckle sprinkled across my nose. My eyes were peacefully closed and the bottom portion of my face was hidden behind the detailed roses he'd made, sketching out every withered petal and thorn on the stems.

Before I could say anything, the cashier called my name and I hastily grabbed the hot chocolate I ordered to-go.

"It's beautiful," I finally told him, once we stepped outside Starbucks.

"Only because of the girl that's in it," Jace replied, softly.

At that, I stopped walking and glanced up at him. The sun shining from above formed a halo around his blonde tufts of hair. _He_ was the beautiful one. And I told him so.

"You're kind of perfect, Jace Lightwood," I murmured, still staring at him. He gently placed his hand on my arm and led me to the side of the pavement so we weren't in anyone's way.

"Wait... But you said you didn't-" he began, an incredulous look on his face, before I interrupted.

"I know what I said. And it was just because I was hurt, scared, and all kinds of emotions like that. Thinking your crush despises you for four years can mess with a person, okay? But now, I just..." I groped around for the right words. "You did it for the second time," I replied, carefully, after a pause. "Whatever it is about you, it worked, because I'm falling for you all over again."

Jace's expression was unreadable, and only his eyes, brighter than ever, gave anything away. "Well, I, on the other hand, never stopped falling."

And, with that, he dipped his head low and brought his lips to mine. I tensed up, not really sure what to do, but Jace clearly did. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me, and I finally relaxed into the kiss and returned it. His breath was minty and cooling, lips soft, and after a few moments, they slightly parted. I felt his tongue gradually enter my mouth, but there was nothing slimy or forced about it. He was being gentle and sweet overall.

I couldn't get enough.

My arms looped around Jace's neck, pulling him closer, and my hands smoothed down the golden curls on his head. I'd never felt or done anything like this. It was just then that I realized the best part about living in New York was that nothing was ever surprising. None of the passerbys even raised an eyebrow at us making out on the sidewalk, too caught up with their own lives and the bustle of the streets to care. It was better that way, too. Kissing Jace was exhilarating; a breath of fresh air. I didn't want to be interrupted.

Speaking of air, we finally came up for some about a comfortable eternity later.

"Whoa." I pressed my index finger to my lips, which were slightly swollen from our lips colliding.

"'Whoa' indeed," Jace mused, leaving a trail of tiny kisses along my jaw. I nuzzled my head in the crook of his neck and we stood there in the midst of the crowd, trapped in our own little world.

* * *

"Oh my God," Isabelle greeted us, the moment we arrived at their house. She even dropped the tin pan of overcooked brownies she was attempting to bake, letting them scatter across the floor.

"That obvious?" I bit my lip, momentarily flushed, before Jace's fingers interlocking with mine put me at ease.

"Well, when two people, that have had sexual tension hovering over them for the past four months, arrive red-faced & out of breath , the only other solution is that you two ran a marathon. It's not rocket science," Izzy shrugged, the corners of her lip gloss-covered mouth quirking up.

"I heard the words 'sexual tension.' What's going on?" Magnus entered the kitchen, Alec behind him as always. After he did a quick sweep of the room, he clapped his manicured hands together. "Oh, yay, the whole gang is together!"

"Jace and Clary holding hands. Huh. I expected this sooner to be honest. You two sure make things dramatic," Alec scoffed, but a tiny smile briefly appeared.

"Well, we always make things 'dramatic' in bed, don't we, Alexander?" purred Magnus.

"Dammit, why do you have to always bring our sex-life into everything, Magnus?" the eldest Lightwood stomped out, agitated.

"He's happy for you, trust me," Magnus winked in my direction before chasing after his boyfriend in the hallway.

Jace cleared his throat. "Well then. I'd say we've got everybody in my family's approval."

"Am I nobody then?" interjected a tiny voice.

Izzy and I whirled around to find Max, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, standing where Magnus just was.

"Aw, we couldn't forget about you, Max," teased Jace, ruffling his brother's hair.

"You just did."

"So," I interrupted with a nervous giggle. "Is it alright if strawberry girl dates your big brother?" I smiled persuasively.

After a pause, Max nodded profusely. "Okiedokie," he grinned before walking off.

Jace nudged me lightly with his elbow. "I guess it's official then, Clare-bear," he gave me a genuine smile, gesturing to our intertwined hands.

I leaned up on my tippy-toes and kissed his cheek. "I guess so, Jace. You're stuck with me for now."

"I can live with that," he laughed, closing the gap between us once again.

"And so it begins," groaned Isabelle, covering her face with her hands.


	16. Epilogue - Part I

**At the end of this story, which is coming up soon, I'll have an author's note explaining what has happened to cause the monumental pause of no updating. But until then, I have two things to say:**

**1. I have deleted everything after chapter 15 "The Stars Align" because I honestly hated the direction in which the story was going. Bringing Sebastian back brought on so much writer's block that I took the coward's way out and started fresh from the last "checkpoint"/the first real kiss between Clary and Jace. I've also decided to end the story so the chapter after this one will be the last for the story.  
**

**2. I'm so sorry, guys. I hate it when author's don't update and I became a hypocrite since I did just that. Things came up, which as I said, will be explained at the very end. Until then, please bare with me. I needed to give you guys something, so this first part of a two-part epilogue is what happened. It is **unedited** so I'm sorry for the mistakes!**

**Enjoy! (And forgive me?) :(  
**

* * *

**Epilogue - Part One**

* * *

_-Clary-_

A FEW MONTHS LATER

"Is everything in his trunk, Clary?"

My eyes skimmed down a slightly crumpled list, labeled at the top in Sharpie as "Stuff For College." _Charcoal. Pastels. Paint. Pencils. Brushes. Canvas. Notebooks. Binders. _Most teens' list of supplies for school differed from mine which was simply a blur of art tools.

And the reason for that came in the mail two months ago: an acceptance letter to the Idris Institute of the Arts, also known as one of the most prestigious art schools in the nation.

But to answer my mom's question, I replied, "Yeah. I think I've got it all."

"Well," she said after a beat of silence, "I guess this is it. You're going to college." My mom wasn't an emotional person. She was Jocelyn Fray, with a glare as sharp as a razor and morals that were set in stone. But even so, I could hear the slight tremble in her voice. A sign of possible tears.

"Oh, Mom," I sighed, turning around to wrap my arms around her. She pulled me into the hug tightly and we stood by our apartment's door in an embrace, trying to find comfort in this bittersweet goodbye.

Pulling away, she glanced out the window to the sleek convertible parked on the curb. "At least you have him to keep you company while you're in school. It's sweet of Jace to want to attend school at a college near yours."

_Him. _Jace Lightwood. The boy who had broken my heart and pieced it back together. From that day outside Starbucks where we'd kissed and made everything official, we'd been inseparable. And now we'd never be apart since he was going to some business school near Idris. The thought of him unconsciously placed a smile on my face.

"Hey, excuse me! Weren't you going to say goodbye to the girl who's been by your side this whole time, or are you too in love to remember I exist?" a voice came out from the kitchen and brought me out of my thoughts. I turned around to see a familiar face, with perfectly coated mascara on top of her lashes, perfect cheekbones, and a smirk on her lips.

"_Izzy!_" I laughed, leaving my mother's side and running across our living room to hug her. "I was going to stop by at your house to say goodbye, you know."

"Well, I'm here now and I wasn't going to be there anyways because I have a date with someone else," she grinned as another person's shadow came into the picture and took her perfectly manicured hand.

"Simon," I smiled warmly, hugging him tight. Close to his ear I whispered, "Looks like you and Isabelle are really hitting it off, huh, Mr. Ladies Man?"

He blushed and tugged at his shirt collar. "Well, I am a pretty handsome guy," he shrugged in an I-can't-help-it-I-was-born-this-way manner. I swatted at his arm.

"Add three more to your little party," rang a silky voice. Magnus, Alec, and Max appeared out of nowhere and Isabelle ushered them over to us.

"Thanks for showing up, you guys," I looked up at all of them in gratitude. "I owe this pretty fantastic senior year to all of you. I'm going to miss all of you so much."

"Group hug!" Magnus and Isabelle cheered in unison. The six of us crowded around and, I swear, the love radiating from that room could've powered all of New York. Reluctantly, I broke away.

"I've got to go, guys. Jace is waiting for me outside."

"I get it, your Prince Charming awaits and all that good stuff. Go, Clary. We'll see you soon," Isabelle said as she leaned her head on Simon's shoulder. I nodded to all of them, shot Simon a look that I hope translated as "Boy, you're a lucky guy," and strode out of the kitchen to get the last of my bags.

"I'll see you home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I love you, Clary," Mom waved me through the door and onto the front steps. "Be good and remember to call every week!"

"I will! Love you!" I called over my shoulder as I made my way down to Jace's car.

"Ready to go?" he asked me as he put the car in drive with one hand and took mine in the other. I took one last glance out the window to where Simon, Isabelle, Magnus, Alec, Max, and my mother stood waving, and sighed.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

* * *

Idris Institute was beautiful, a large structure built in the early 1900's with flowers blooming on the lawn, stain glass windows, students strolling around campus, and a large, colorful mural on one of the brick walls. I could definitely see myself studying to become an artist here for the next few years. And the best part was that Jace would only be a few minutes away at another business school nearby. He said that the school was pretty flexible and had allowed him to stay in my dorm room instead of one of theirs.

The car came to a smooth halt in one of the parking spaces. I practically bounced out of the car and to the trunk to get my things. I had bags toppled on top of one another in my arms when I heard Jace finally get out of the car. "Hey, come help me put my stuff in my room so we can get yours, too," I said.

"I won't be needing my stuff-"

"This isn't a camping trip where you need to prove your manliness by seeing how long you can go with the fewest supplies."

"No, Clary-"

"Jace, I don't take up that much space, I promi-"

"_Clary._"

I stopped and turned to look at him. "What is i-" My words dropped mid-sentence when I saw Jace's facial expression. He seemed anxious and fidgety. "Jace? What's wrong?"

"Clary, I'm not going to be needing my stuff because I'm not staying with you."

I narrowed my eyes a bit. "So you're staying in that business school's dorm after all then?"

"No, I'm not staying here in this area, period. I've decided that I'm not attending this school. There's a university that gave me a full scholarship. It's a lot better than the one here and I think I could really learn business there."

I exhaled in relief. The look on his face had suggested something worse. "That's great, Jace. I'm happy you got a scholarship. Sure, we're not going to room together like I hoped, but we'll still see each other, won't we? That's all that matters."

"Clary, the school's in Washington."

The bags tumbled out of my hands and onto the gravel. "But that's almost 3000 miles away," I choked out. "And you know how long distance relationships always crash and burn."

Somehow, Jace seemed so distant, even though he was walking towards me. Taking my hands in his, he took a deep breath. It seemed as if he was struggling to get the words out. "I know, Clary. And that's why we need to end this now before one of us gets hurt later."

My heart contracted and I found it hard to get air into my lungs. "_Jace. _You can't just do this! We've both gone through hell trying to be together and you can't just tear it apart so easily! We can make it work, I promise. I know that's what the girl always says in those cliche romance movies, but I swear to God, we can do this. Please." I could feel tears burning the rims of my eyes and, angrily, I swatted away at them.

He tilted my head up and placed his lips to mine. The kiss actually tasted like heartbreak- salty, sad, and final. "You'll become an amazing artist. I know you will. That's why you need to stay here while I leave."

My fists shook. "I only got into this school because of you, Jace. I submitted that sketch I made of you in Mrs. Donovan's art class for my portfolio I sent in with my application. The acceptance letter included comments on the artwork and they said, by far, that drawing was the best of all of them."

"Your talent was what got you accepted, not me. Maybe I was the inspiration, but that sketch was all you, Clary. This school is where you should be," Jace smiled mournfully. He looked down at his watch and swore. "I've got to go. I have a flight to Washington in an hour."

We stood in silence.

"So. Is this is it? Dump me in the parking lot of my dream school, leave me crying, and take off?"

"Well, I was still going to help you carry your bags to your dorm..." he trailed off when he saw me glaring at him. "Clary, I'm sorry. You know it's for the best though, don't you?"

"Maybe," I stared hatefully down at the ground. "But that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. Does Isabelle and Alec know what you've done?"

He slipped a hand in his pocket. "Nope. And I'm expecting a series of angry, death-threat voice mails from Isabelle and Skype calls from Magnus, involving him pretending to be a warlock and casting evil spells on me, in the next few hours."

More awkward silence.

I cleared my throat. "Well, you better get going then. Don't want to miss your flight."

"Clary, I don't want to leave it like this-"

"But you are. So go. And if we meet again, then it must be fate. If we don't, then you'll be my first love and the one who got away. Not the best title I can give you, but it's all I got."

"Then we'll meet again, whether I'm the stunningly gorgeous model that you'll have to draw, or the rich businessman who'll sponsor your first art museum." Jace kissed my forehead and slid into the driver's seat.

The engine revved up and his convertible backed out, leaving me stranded in the parking lot with my bags at my side. A few hours later, I got the call from Isabelle that, as expected, included strong rated-R language and words of comfort that had barely any effect on me.

"I'm so sorry, Clary. I didn't see this coming," Isabelle sighed. "If I had, these 7 inch heels would've been plunged into Jace's heart by now."

I smiled in spite of myself. "Hah, it's fine, Iz. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be."


	17. Epilogue - Part II

**Hi there, fellow readers. *waves***

**The end of Chasing Pavements is here. Some of you will be overjoyed, some of you will miss this story. I hope it's the latter. **

**Read on and enjoy.**

* * *

**Epilogue - Part Two**

* * *

_-Clary-_

A FEW YEARS LATER

Starbucks was my sanctuary. I went there so often that all I'd have to say was "Can I get a-" and the barista would already have my cup, pre-prepare and everything. Sad, I know.

There had been nights, way too many of them in fact, where I'd be working in my sketchbook on the brink of exhaustion, and one drop of coffee would be enough to revive me.

So, based on that context, anyone who knew me could guess where I was at the moment.

"Clary? Isn't it a little late for you to be here? It's nice to know you're taking advantage of our new 24-hour policy but-" Aline, the staff member who worked the night shift, eyed me skeptically.

"It's 11pm and I just really need something more than that 5 Hour Energy shit, okay? My artwork is being displayed at Idris's open house tomorrow and I am not even close to finished with one of my pieces. So, please, just give me anything with caffeine," I sighed deflatedly, slapping a $10 bill on the counter.

Casting me a look that was a mix between uncertainty and sympathy, she stuffed the money into the register and handed me a styrofoam cup, steaming with a freshly made espresso. I thanked her and bustled out the door, picturing in my mind the parts of my canvas that still needed some work-

_Bump_.

I ran straight into something sturdy and would've thought it was a poorly placed lamp post if it wasn't for the fact that it spoke.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," apologized a slightly familiar voice. I brushed it off.

Glancing down at my cup and making sure the lid was still sealed I said, "It's no problem. Good thing my drink didn't spill on you, that would've been a disaster. Well, have a nice night!" With a nod, I eased around him.

His hand suddenly reached out and caught my arm, turning me in his direction. "Hey," I protested, struggling out of his grip, "what-"

Stepping into the dim glow of the crappily lit street lamps, I could now clearly see the guy's face. Strong jaw, blonde tousled hair, and those unnaturally golden eyes I knew all too well. "Clary?" he tilted his head.

"Jace." I tried to mask my surprise, but my voice came out strangled. "It's been a while."

"Three years to be exact."

"Yeah. I'm 21 now you know. Old enough to drink, young enough to still feel the socket where you tore out my heart," I seethed, putting venom into the last part. Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. It's just that seeing you again is making my thoughts go crazy."

Jace studied my face intently, his eyes searching for something, and asked, "What are you thinking about right now?"

Anger flared up inside me. "I'm debating whether or not I should pour my espresso on your head."

Exhaling, he stuck a hand in his coat pocket and said, "I wouldn't blame you if you did. What I did to you that day in your school's parking lot gives you every right to be bitter-"

"Damn right it does," I interjected. "Jace, you completely blindsided me when you broke us up. I loved you. I finally had you after all those years of confusion, misery, and thinking you hated me throughout high school. And I can't believe you were willing to give that up so quickly. I mean, you never even tried to make it work. We could've still been together right now if it wasn't for you!" I absentmindedly touched my cheek and found it wet with tears. I wiped at them harshly with my sleeve.

Jace's stare, once fixed on the sidewalk, abruptly moved up, and now we were looking at each other straight in the eye; Emerald glaring at gold.

"Clary, I hated myself every day for that choice. Did you honestly think it was easy for me? Driving away from you, fully knowing that you were standing there and crying because of what I'd done? I didn't want to. I loved you more than anything. But I truly believed, and still do, that I made the right decision. Say we did try to make it work. Skype calls, FaceTime, online chatting... it wouldn't have been enough. I'd see you, but you wouldn't be right in front of me. We'd grow distant and our relationship would change, I know it."

I stayed silent and he took this as a cue to continue.

"And just look at our lives now. I've seen you on the news, Clary. Youngest person to win Idris's prestigious Artist of the Year award? Several pieces of artwork already hanging on the walls of their official gallery? God, Clary, that's amazing. You have all this success and it might not have happened if we didn't separate. I would've held you back. As for me, I know I made the right choice not attending the business school here. The one in Washington has taught me tips and tricks I don't think I would've learned here."

"So, I'm supposed to accept the fact that my heartbreak was for the greater good? Part of the cause?" I finally answered. "Jace, maybe you are right. I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for our break up, considering that half my most successful drawings were inspired by the sadness and anger you caused me. But that fact won't change the pain I went through."

"I still love you, Clary," he said abruptly. "I'd do anything to make up for what I did to you. Just know that."

And at that moment, the reality of this situation just kind of sunk in. It was nearly midnight. I had homework to do. And here I was, talking to my ex in front of Starbucks. Which is where we had stood when we had our first real kiss four years ago, making us an official couple. I thought back to my words I had said on the day we separated. _And if we meet again, then it must be fate._

"Clary?" Jace's perplexed tone brought me out of my thoughts. "You went blank for a minute. So. What I'm trying to say is... is it too late to use that 'second chance' coupon you made for me in 4th grade when I accidentally got juice all over your notebook? It's a stupid question, I know, but-"

"Technically, it's your third chance considering I gave you the second one on my 18th birthday," I indignantly corrected him. "And I have to do one last thing before I decide what I want to have happen."

I don't know what it was, whether it was 'fate' in action or that random burst of energy you suddenly get when you're tired for no reason, but my feet propelled towards him until we were so close our noses almost touched, and I kissed him. His lips brushed mine, light as a feather and hesitatingly, in response.

I needed _certainty_ and not hesitation if I wanted to know for sure if we were meant to be.

I clutched him tightly and pulled him closer, parting my lips. It was like a switch flipped inside both our heads from Awkward Kiss to The Way We Were Before, and all of a sudden, he was returning the favor. Our tongues clashed against each other in a dance of needing and wanting as my hands roamed through the curly tendrils of his hair. I missed his soft lips moving against mine and the scent of a minty winter's day on his breath. We kissed like we were each other's air and both of us were suffocating. I put _everything _into that kiss, all my joy from before and my heartbreak from now.

And finally, I felt it, the thing I had been waiting for._ A spark. _

As our lips pressed against each other, intense and desperate, it continued to grow and grow to the point where it had turned into flames, burning brightly and spelling out a single word: love.

Oh God, I still loved Jace Lightwood. He had hurt me twice to the point where I wasn't sure if my heart would ever be able to function again, but with good reason for both. With him, I felt complete and whole and- and... My mind was grappling for words to latch onto. And...

"Happy," I breathed once we had broken apart. After a beat of silence, I said, "Jace, you're an asshole. You're selfish, way too obsessed with yourself, and have shit timing when it comes to relationships."

Jace's expression was unreadable, stony and emotionless, but his chest was rising and falling more rapidly than before.

"But," I continued, "for some reason that I'll never understand, you make me _happy_. I smile genuinely when I'm around you. You're everything I've ever really needed in my life to keep me stable: strong, witty, compassionate if you dig deep enough, and my best friend."

His golden eyes were blazing in the way they always did in moments like these, brighter than the sun. "You forgot blindingly gorgeous," he said, flashing a cocky grin.

"I- what?" I blinked.

"While naming off those wonderful traits of mine, you forgot to add gorgeous. Or handsome. Or hot enough to fry eggs on. Either synonyms will work."

My eyes narrowed. "Clearly, I forgot to mention _arrogant_ too."

Stepping closer and tilting my chin up with his finger, he said, "And there's one last trait that has apparently escaped your mind: I'll always be _yours_, Clary. No matter what you choose, whether you want to give us another try or leave me in your past for good, just know that my heart belongs to you. So, can we start over, Clary?"

In the section of my brain that stored song lyrics I had memorized, one song came to mind. _Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if they lead no where._

This moment, whatever it was, was fate. What were the odds that we'd meet again in the middle of New York City, years after we had separated? It was like someone up there was trying to tell me something.

And so I told Jace something, wrapping my arms around him and closing the space between us.

"Yes."

-THE END-

* * *

**Hurray! You've reached the end (as shown above). **

**1. I'd like to say thank you for sticking with me through this journey. I love every single one of you for reading this. Yes, I'm talking to _you. _This story has had its ups and downs, and the fact that you kept reading makes me want to give you a congratulatory cupcake or something. But since I can't (dumb internet), just know that I thank you for everything. **

**2. Although the story is over, I have a semi-important Author's Note coming in the next chapter. I'll talk about why I was gone for those months, other writing related stuff, and...**

**3. I'll answer any questions if you have any. I doubt you guys will, but if you ever wondered about anything while reading this story, feel free to ask! I will answer all questions about anything & everything. It'll be sort of like a Q&A. So, yeah, leave your questions in a review! **

**IN CONCLUSION:**

**Thank you. :] I know some people won't be pleased with the ending because, y'know, you can't please everyone, but I tried! Love you guys!**


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